


The Deadpool

by I_msorrymylove



Series: The Betting Pools [1]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-25 21:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16668571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_msorrymylove/pseuds/I_msorrymylove
Summary: Amy is a bar tender at Sister Margaret's. She's sunny and happy and way too innocent to work there. She's also way too innocent to fall for the foul mouth Wade Wilson, but she does so anyways. Because, at the end of the day, she will always love him and will always be there for him. This is a fanfic based off of the movie. It's a Deadpool/OC and is the first of the Betting Pools.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a copy of my book on fanfiction net under the name I'msorrymylove.

**Hello and welcome to The Deadpool! My name is I’msorrymylove and I am a fanfiction writer. I’ve mainly written Doctor Who stories but I’ve also written a Gravity Falls one as well. This will be my first fanfiction based off a movie and currently my only fanfiction that is rated M because, like the movie, there’s a lot of cursing that will be going on.**

**And yes, this is a Wade/OC story. However, Wade will be with Vanessa before he leaves. If you’re a huge Vanessa/Wade fan than this story likely won’t make you happy.**

**The OC with Wade is named Amy, who I picture to look a lot like Amy Adams, specifically from the Enchanted Movie.**

**This story will mainly follow our lovely Wade/Deadpool, but it will also cut to Amy during different scenes. If you haven’t seen the movie I will do my best to make sure that you can follow this.**

**Key:**

_Flashback “Flash back speaking.”_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Deadpool or any of the characters affiliated with him. Otherwise I wouldn’t be looking for a job at the moment.**

* * *

Wade was sitting in the back of a taxi cab and was quickly becoming bored. He had already picked up a pamphlet for ‘Haunted Segway Tours’ because that was so ridiculous that it had to be funny. Almost like a movie about a beautiful man who became ugly and then started to hunt down the man who turned him ugly while ignoring the woman that he maybe loved and the woman he had sex with soooo many times. Honestly, who would act in that movie? Certainly not the upstanding actor Ryan Reynolds, and if it was him then the maybe –probably – woman he loved would never look like Amy Adams.

Oh look, window buttons!

Wade pushed on the down button, and the window slid all the way down. He pushed on the up button, and the window slid all the way up. It was so nice to have a taxi that had working windows. One time he had been in Mexico for…a completely legit business trip, and the taxi he was in had no air conditioning and rolled up windows. Mexico had shortly found itself with one less taxi driver.

Now very bored, Wade stuck his finger into some gum. Sure, his finger was covered in the suit he was wearing, but still…that was just gross. He tried to flick it back on the roof, but it instead landed into the void….or a camera lens. They were honestly the same thing. Being nice, he picked the gum off and wiped it onto the ceiling. It was the right thing to do.

Oh dear god was he bored! He wanted to talk to _someone…_ wasn’t there a driver right up front? Just to make sure, he poked his head up to see a short Indian man was driving. “Kinda lonesome back here,” he commented.

And now his neck was hurting. Great. But that was easily solvable. He started to climb from the back of the cab to the passenger seat. That turned out to not be as easy as he thought it would be and he huffed out a grunt. “Little help?”

The driver looked at him and at his hands and then back to the road. “Sir, I have to keep my hands on the wheel.”

Well _that_ was a stupid rule. He had driven without his hands loads of times! The crashes that followed had nothing to do with that!

So he rolled his eyes, not that the driver could see that, he was wearing a mask after all, and _somehow_ got into the passenger seat. He so deserved an award for that later.

The driver, deciding that the rules were stupid as well, held out his hand for Wade to shake. “Dopinder.”

“Pool. Dead.”

They shook hands, something that Wade hadn’t done in a while. Usually he was too busy with other...activities in this suit to formally introduce himself.

Now upfront with the driver, he couldn’t help but notice that Dopinder’s eyes were alarmingly large, and also looking at him far too closely. It made him feel kind of uncomfortable. Maybe that’s what Amy meant when she said that some of the guys made her feel like she was being x-rayed. He had never asked her what she meant, instead choosing to focus on beating the ever loving shit out of the guys. Perhaps he would ask about it next time he saw her…that statement deserved a painful laugh.

Still, Wade found himself being more twitchy than usual. He started to roam the front and his eyes landed on a picture of a very hot Indian woman on the dashboard. “Mmm. Nice,” he commented.

Dopinder tapped the weird air freshener he had hanging from his rearview mirror. “Smells good, no?”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Not the Daffodil Daydream. The girl.” He put in a point to the picture in case there were other girl’s pictures hanging around, or if there was another air freshener.

Dopinder sighed. “Ah, yes. Gita. She is quite lovely. She would have made me a very agreeable wife, but, um…Gita’s heart has been stolen by my cousin Bantu. He is as dishonorable as he is attractive.”

Wade felt his heart light up. This sounded like a job for a matchmaker, which he so was. He had set up loads of people. Himself with…well, himself with others didn’t really go well. But what about that time he set up Mr. and Mrs. Potato head? He was the one responsible for that dynamic duo!

“Dopinder, I’m starting to think there’s a reason I’m in this cab today.” The reason being: he would get him to get Gita! It’s not like you need to know the other person’s personality. And being in the cab with Dopinder for at least ten minutes had showed him everything he needed to know about him. He was already considering having this man to be his best man at his wedding!

Dopinder frowned and did this weird rapid blinking. “Yes, sir, you called for it, remember?” he asked hesitantly, probably wondering how sane Wade was.

Jokes on him, though, Wade had always been insane. He was just good at hiding it.

“No, my slender, brown friend. Love is a beautiful thing. When you find it, the whole world tastes like Daffodil Daydream.” He breathed in deeply, causing Dopinder to do the same.

“Mmm,” Dopinder sighed, clearly enjoying the smell and taste of the Daffodil Daydream…Wade felt like he was about to puke. His eyes were watering and he just wanted to run far away from the smell. To be fair, that was also how he generally felt about love.

“So you gotta hold onto love. Tight!” He put in, thinking back to Amy. She was such a sweet girl and her dresses had flowers and she smelled like cinnamon…he felt his nostrils flare and he made a fist. “And never let go. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Got it?”

Dopinder nodded. “Yes.”

“Or else the whole world tastes like Mama June after hot yoga,” he shuddered. Vanessa had had an odd obsession with Toddlers and Tiaras. She would watch it whenever her _Auntie Flow_ was visiting. And then she would cry all the time and just…it was an unfortunate time to be with her.

“Sir, what does Miss Mama June taste like?” Dopinder asked.

That was a fair question. So he paused as he tried to think of an appropriate way to answer that. “Like two hobos fucking in a shoe filled with piss.” He decided firmly.

Dopinder shuddered and clutched at the wheel in front of him. “Okay, stop.”

Wade nodded. “I can go all day, Dopinder. The point is, it’s bad.” He emphasized. Mama June was a nightmare, worse than anything.

She and Francis would be great together! See, totally a matchmaker.

“It’s bad,” Dopinder agreed. He seemed to struggle to ask something before he blurted out: “Uh, why the fancy red suit Mr. Pool?”

Wade looked down at his suit. It was very fancy. And vey deadly. “Oh, that’s because it’s Christmas Day, Dopinder. And I’m after someone on my naughty list. I’ve been waiting one year, three weeks, six days, and oh…” because he wasn’t completely perfect, he had to check his Adventure Time watch for the last measurement. “Fourteen minutes to make him fix what he did to me.”

“And what did he do to you?”

“This shit.”

And with that snarl, Wade lifted up his mask, revealing to Dopinder his horrible scarred face. “Boo!” he added in sarcastically as he saw Dopinder’s horror at it.

Pulling the mask down, Wade started to pat down his suit, a horrified frown appearing on his face as he felt nothing. He swiveled around in his seat to see nothing back there either. “Aw, shit! I forgot my ammo bag!”

“Shall we turn back?” Dopinder offered.

Wade shook his head. “Nope, no time. Fuck it. I got this. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve bullets, or bust. We’re here!”

At the sudden shout, Dopinder slammed on his breaks, causing people to swerve behind him and several people to honk. As they drove past the suddenly stopped car, multiple drivers flashed their middle fingers at them.

Dopinder didn’t seem to mind, though. He checked the meter and then turned to Wade. “That’s uh, twenty seven fifty.”

Wade paused, having been trying to open the taxi. “I…I never carry a wallet while I’m working. Ruins the lines of my suit.” The pains of having a skintight suit.

“Oh,” Dopinder said after a few blinks.

For some reason, he seemed disappointed. So Wade offered: “But, uh, how ‘bout a crisp high-five!”

“Okay,” Dopinder agreed.

The two high-fived, Dopinder far less enthusiastic about it than Wade.

“Merry Christmas,” Wade said as he finally got out of the cab.

“And a convivial Tuesday in April to you too, Mr. Pool!” Dopinder called as he left.

* * *

Wade was sitting on the side of a bridge, a radio setting next to him playing ‘Shoop.’ He was vaguely singing along, making hand gestures at a few of the words, but he was really focused on the drawing he was doing with some crayons he had with him. It was fun to see Francis getting shot in the head, even if it was just a crayon drawing. He’d soon change it to be a reality.

And then turned and stared directly at the camera, or the person reading, or just whoever happened to be paying a lot of attention to him. “Wha- Oh! Oh, hello. I know, right? Who’s balls did I have to fondle to get my very own movie? I can’t tell you, but it does rhyme with Pullverine. And let me tell you; he’s got a nice pair of smooth criminals down under,” he finished in an Australian accent.

They’d get that joke, right?

“Anyway, I got places to be, a face to fix, and - oh! Bad guys to kill.” He watched eagerly as Francis’ convoy of black cars – Francis was a very dramatic little shit, after all – were driving quickly towards the bridge he was sitting on.

Now having an appointment, Wade got onto the rim and, in one fluid motion, jumped off the bridge, landing in one of the cars of the convoy. It seemed that they had been driving peacefully, listening to ‘Angel of the Morning,’ but then Wade landed and their peaceful drive was over.

Several things happened almost immediately after Wade had landed in the car. He started to beat all the men up, causing one to even get thrown out the back of the car and hang on. He couldn’t resist _not_ laughing at that. It was just too funny!

That pause of him laughing caused one of the men to be able to grab him and slam his head into the back of a car seat. Even through the mask, he could smell the leather. “Rich, corinthian leather,” he commented. It was a very nice quality car.

Using the position he was in for his advantage, Wade was able to snap the man’s neck, killing him. He then moved onto the passenger, who was sitting in the shotgun seat.

That was foreshadowing or anything. Still…someone should really inform his next of kin.

“I’m looking for Francis. Have you seen this man?” he asked while holding up his drawing. It did look like him, shaved head and asshole personality and all, but apparently the man didn’t seem to understand his question, because he didn’t answer it. Instead, the man started to slam his head repeatedly into the car radio, causing it to change channels rapidly.

But then, rather fortunately for Wade and rather unfortunately for everyone else in the car, a man riding up on a motorcycle decided to empty his gun into it. Clearly the man didn’t really care who he was shooting at, because he killed everyone in the car _except_ for Wade, the driver, and that guy who was still hanging onto the back. How the hell was he hanging onto the back still?

Still, despite the guy on the motorcycle helping him, Wade kicked the driver door open, sending the motorcycle and the driver flying. Hearing a noise behind him, Wade turned around to see the guy who had been hanging onto the back of the car start to climb onto it. Getting into the driver’s seat, he slammed down onto the gas pedal, causing the guy climbing into the car to at least get some road burn before he got fully into the vehicle.

But somehow, a car appeared in front of his, and Wade hit it head on, causing the front of his to crunch. Grabbing the person who had climbed into the car and the driver, Wade put the two men into a headlock. Taking the cigarette lighter, Wade pressed it down on one of the man’s foreheads and then forcibly shoved it into the other man’s mouth and held it shut.

“I’ve never said this, but don’t swallow.”

Pushing them away from him, Wade looked up to see another car pulling up beside his, all the occupants readying their guns to shoot at him. He sighed. Couldn’t they just give him Francis and be done? Who would ever have some sort of loyalty to that dick?

Taking the wheel of the car once more, Wade swerved the car, causing it to flip and crash. From the front of the car, he could hear the man on the motorcycle revving his engine and started to shoot. He wasn’t shooting for long, though, because Wade reached through the top of the car and grabbing the man off his motorcycle by the waist, pulling him into the spinning wreck.

He paused, frowning as a horrible, horrible thought came to him. Around him, the world seemed to slow down as he said, “Shit. Did I leave the stove on?”

Everything started to speed up around Wade and he watched with great satisfaction as a chain sliced off the biker’s head. Another man went flying, presumably never seen again. Bodies started to fall out of the car as it landed and then skidded to a halt on its side.

Fuck, he would have to climb out of that.

* * *

 _Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters_ was a stately mansion that resided in Westchester County, New York. It somehow had that ancient look to it despite how often it blew up, much to the annoyance of its occupants that weren’t included in the adventures that had led up to someone wanting to blow up the school. Xavier had had a complaint box for a bit, but after practically everyone submitted that they wanted the school to _not_ blow up, he had taken it away. It was a good complaint though. A lot of the residents – especially those who’s mutation, gift, power, or whatever they choose to call it was more obvious – only had the mansion as their home because their parents didn’t, or couldn’t, have them.

At the moment though, the mansion was calm. The school year was in session, which meant that only those who stayed their full-time were there. The main source of noise was coming from the kitchen, where the TV was switched on the news.

“Now, breaking news: A multi car collision turns shots fired on the crosstown expressway this morning. Gridlock has kept police from the scene.”

A reporter was saying to a very interested Colossus, who was eating cereal. The normal-sized spoon looked out of place in his large, metal hands, but it was good practice to make sure that his super strength didn’t crush anything he wasn’t meaning to. Despite years of practice, he still accidently broke things when he wasn’t paying attention or got frustrated…

Like he was getting now as the reporter continued speaking. “Residents are advised to remain in their homes the assailant appears to be armed, dangerous, and wearing a –“

Colossus slammed the spoon down, bending it, as he said with the reporter, “Red suit.”

The table shook as he stood up and shook his head. _Why_ couldn’t that man use his powers for something other than destruction and death? Innocent people were getting hurt because of him!

“Deadpool. Negasonic! Come. We have mission,” he shouted.

Storming away, he traveled through the house fairly quickly, soon reaching the door that led to the hanger.

“Colossus, wait up,” Negasonic called as she jogged to catch up to the far larger man. Her dark hair, which had been far longer a while back, was shaved down to a buzz cut, in part because she thought it looked amazing coupled with her dark clothing and lipstick, and also because her powers often caused her hair to burn off. Shorter hair wasn’t a fire hazard, which was really good for her.

She had been partnered with Colossus as some sort of big brother mentor, likely because he wouldn’t die of her powers got out of control, unlike a lot of other people. Knowing that did kind of help. She used to feel so guilty and fearful about even _thinking_ of using her powers, but since Colossus was relatively safe from them, the guilt and fear had gone away.

Colossus looked down at her as the two walked through the hanger and to one of the many planes. “I’ve given Deadpool every chance to join us. But he’d rather act like a child. A heavily armed child. When will he grow up and see benefits of becoming X-man?”

Negasonic couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She honestly thought that trying to recruit Deadpool was a complete waste of time. He clearly didn’t want to be an X-man, and even if he did, what benefits was Colossus even referring to?

“Which benefits, the matching unitards? The house that blows up every few years?” she asked, only partially being sarcastic.

Colossus shook his head. “Please. House blowing up builds character.” Fumbling around in the pockets of his clothing, he took out a protein bar. “You ate breakfast, yes? Breakfast is most important meal of day. Here. Protein bar. Good for bones.” As Negasonic took the bar and looked down at it, Colossus nodded. “Deadpool may try to break yours,” he warned.

Deadpool was a very violent man after all, and so were his friends! He obviously had gotten to them.

When they had heard about his powers, it had only taken a bit of research to find where he frequented. He had gone to the bar to try and recruit him, only to get a frightening red haired girl who was bartending along with another gentleman. She had snapped at him and had gone on and on with frankly creative threats while the other man just laughed and laughed along with the other patrons. From what he gathered, her being so violent was out-of-character for her.

And then Deadpool had shown up, in full costume, and everyone had just left when the man said so. He had taken off his mask and had told Colossus that he really wasn’t interested, with a few extra words that didn’t need to be said. He had pointed out that it was his and Xavier’s responsibility to train the man to control his powers and the man had laughed at him.

Though they hadn’t met since, and he had been pretty clear with his complete lack of desire to be an X-man, but Colossus still felt like he had to go and try and recruit Deadpool again.

Hopefully the red head wouldn’t be there. She had scared him with how angry she had gotten.


	2. Chapter 2

Wade climbed through the SUV and paused by the closed window, waiting. He could hear people coming towards him. Angry people coming towards him. Angry people with guns coming towards him.

None of that was a particularly good thing. Angry people with guns meant he could get shot. Getting shot would mean blood. And blood would mean that Amy would feel squeamish. She probably wouldn’t even baby him, and that made Wade’s face set into a frown.

Now there was no way he was going to get shot or any blood on him. Just so Amy would baby him and not because the idea of Amy being squeamish because of him made his stomach do a flip like he had just read a fanfiction, because fanfiction was horrible.

Fanfiction was so horrible, in fact, that it made perfect sense for an author to forget that Wade was supposed to roll down the SUV’s window, like he was doing now, and poking his head out of the SUV to say, “Hey!”

Wade would have continued on, but the barrage of bullets coming his way made him drop back down with a shout of, “Oh!” He decided to stay down until he could hear the men started towards him, probably confused.

So Wade threw his hands out the open window in a ‘pause’ signal. “Wait! You may be wondering, why the red suit? Well, that’s so bad guys can’t see me bleed.” He pointed to one of the men on the right, who, if Wade was remembering correctly, wearing very stylish brown pants. Shame they would be ruined though, which he explained to the men so that they would be on the same page.

It was only fair.

“This guy’s got the right idea. He wore the brown pants.”

It took a moment for what Wade had said to settle in. But once it did it was very clear that the men did _not_ find his perfectly-innocent-joke-that-didn’t-indirectly-imply-that-he-was-going-to-kill-them-all that funny. They made this clear by starting to shoot at the car again.

Now Wade was a reasonable person. He had quickly brought his hands down when they had started to shoot at him and he honestly didn’t mind too much. He could understand that his joke might not have been liked.

But he did _not_ think the reasonable reaction was to shoot at him. That made Wade angry. And angry Wade…angry Wade was not nice.

“Fine! I only have twelve bullets, so you’re going to have to share,” he yelled to the annoying shooting people.

Wade turned towards where the camera would be, if he was in a movie, and said directly to it and the billions of people watching the camera, “Let’s count ‘em down.”

He jumped out of the open window and shot two of the men in the head, killing them both. The rest of the men had paused in their shooting to see to see what Wade was going to do. When he killed their friends, they quickly restarted their bullets as Wade landed on the ground neatly.

10 bullet left.

There was the sound of an accelerating engine, causing Wade to turn just in time for the rider to shoot him in the arm.

“Shit,” Wade cursed. He held up his arm and peered through the very painful hole, that was already closing up, just in time to see motorcycle coming very fast towards him.

“Mother fucker! Ten.” He shot and missed the rider. “Shit! Nine.” He shot again, and missed. “Fuck! Eight” One again, he shot and missed the rider. “Shit fuck!” He yelled. Wade leaped over a car and took aim, but by that point he had lost his chance and there was no way he could waste his remaining bullets on a shot he would not make.

That would be stupid.

“Bad Deadpool,” he reprimanded himself with a shake of his head.

But then Wade noticed one of the men sneaking around the car, and since this man was unware that Wade knew what he was doing, Wade was able to sneakily kill the man by shooting him in the head.

“Seven. Good Deadpool,” he praised himself.

Another man began to shoot at Wade. Logically, Wade hide behind a car and listened as the man reloaded his gun and shoot some more as he stomped over to the car, jumped up on the car…

And Wade was waiting for him in a very sexy pose. The man glared, growled, and tried to fire his gun. But it didn’t work. Instead, it just clicked.

“Someone’s not counting,” Wade said smugly. And then he shot the man in the head. “Six.”

Two men started to approach Wade, one with a grenade he was planning on throwing at Wade. ‘Planning’ was the key word in that sentence, because Wade shot it with his fifth bullet while it was still in the man’s hand. This caused the grenade to blow both men up.

Honestly, that was a cause for celebration. So Wade celebrated it. He started to dance…until he was shot from behind. Wade allowed himself to fall over, acting as if he had really sustained a wound from the shot. He could see from his mask that a man was coming towards him. He hadn’t noticed Wade’s gun poking up from his between his legs.

In fact, he didn’t notice that Wade was even alive until he groaned, “Four,” and then shot the man. His death must have come as a surprise for him.

But Wade didn’t have the time or the strength to worry about that. He was focused on the pain he was feeling as he got up from the ground. “Ah! Right up main street,” he complained. Even if his bullet wounds healed, they still hurt a shit ton.

Turning towards the man he had just shot, Wade couldn’t help but shoot him twice more. “Three! Two! Stupid!” And then he sighed, “Worth it.”

Of course, more men had to start shooting at Wade, because he was just that popular.

But Wade had problems to deal with. Three problems with guns, to be specific. He had ducked behind a car as soon as the next round of bullets had started towards him. He could hear them approaching and he knew, with only one bullet left and three of them, that he only had one chance…

He leapt into the air and over the car _all_ while shooting his last bullet at the men, who had lined themselves up diagonally. The bullet went through one head…two head…three head! The shell dropped to the ground as the three men fell down next to it, thoroughly dead.

Bringing his smoking pistol up to his nose, Wade inhaled deeply and smirked. “Ooh. I’m touching myself tonight.”

Yet Wade _still_ had work to do. And that work involved skipping through the bodies he had just killed and practically singing, “Francis! Francis!”

Seeing a car, Wade searched it and growled as he let the door slam shut behind him. “What the shit biscuit! Where you at, Francis?”

Behind him, Wade heard a noise that suspiciously sounded like someone was getting up from the pile of very dead bodies. So he turned around to see a very large man with muscles and a glare getting up from the pile of very dead bodies.

“Ugh. You’re not Francis,” He pointed out with a grimace under his mask. He pointedly did not mention the bullet hole that had lodged itself in the man’s forehead. It’s like acne. Ya don’t comment on the acne.

But since Wade _had_ to comment on something, he instead pointed at the sleeves the man was rolling up. “Really? Rolling up the sleeves?”

The man, undeterred by the bullet in his forehead or the cliché rolling of his sleeves, pulled out two knives and started to charge Wade.

With a sigh, Wade pulled out his swords and skewered the man.

* * *

_You’re probably thinking, ‘Why am I reading this? It’s a fanfiction. It only rehashes what happened in the movie.’ Well, I completely agree with the sentiment. It’s a fanfiction. And I, Wade, do not like fanfiction. Especially of my movie._

_However, this going to go differently than the movie. And it will have some of the same stuff as the movie. At its heart though, this fanfiction is a love story. A love story between a very innocent person and someone who was born…not innocent._

_And yeah, this is murder. But some of the best love stories start with a murder. And to tell it right, I gotta take you back to way before I squeezed this ass into red spandex._

* * *

**Two Years Ago**

A man, Mr. Merchant, was wearing very sparkly bedazzled jeans and a very pissed off expression on his face. “Look, what if I slow it down for you? I didn’t order the pizza,” He snapped to the very confused teenage pizza delivery man who was taking up his fucking time.

“Is this 7348 Red Ledge Drive? Are you Mr. Merchant?” The pizza delivery boy, Jeremy asked, reading off the address of the slip his boss had given him.

“Yeah, the Mr. Merchant, who didn’t order the fucking pie!” Merchant yelled.

“Then who placed the call?” Jeremy asked, really not expecting to get an answer besides more yelling.

But he got an answer. From the bathroom of the apartment, a completely different man’s voice called, “I did.” And then the person who owned the voice, Wade Wilson, stepped out and gave a friendly smile to Jeremy. “Pineapple and olive? Sweet and salty.”

Jeremy nodded as he handed over the pizza box.

Merchant, who had seemed to be rendered to a state of shock, finally remembered that he had a mouth. “Fuck are you? The fuck you doing in my crib?” he demanded.

In both a simple and well-thought out response, Wade took out his pistol and pointed it at Merchant, who held up his hands and backed away.

“Is it bread crust?” Wade asked casually. He had specifically made sure it was _not_ bread crust.

Jeremy swallowed audibly before answering. “Oh, God, I hope not.”

Eyeing the gun very carefully, Merchant started to speak rapidly to Wade, who had turned to look at him. “Woah, man, look. If this is about that poker game, I told him, I told Howie that uh…Just uh, just take whatever you want,” he offered as he took out his wallet and handed it to Wade.

Wade took the wallet and said, “Thanks.” He opened it up, checked the bills inside, and pocketed it.

And then Jeremy spoke up. “Sir, before you do anything to him, mind if I get a big tip?”

Wade blinked at him. “Jeremy, is it? Wade Wilson. That is ah, a no go on the tiperoo, Jer. I’m not here for him. I’m here for you,” he said while holding up a gold card with Jeremy’s name on it.

Merchant breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Oh, hey, wow, dodged a big time bullet on that one!” he said while putting his hands down and backing up several steps.

Wade turned and faced him, still pointing the gun at him. “You’re not out of the woods yet. You need to seriously ease-up on the bedazzling. They’re jeans, not a chandelier. P.S., I am keeping your wallet. You did kind of give it to me.”

“Hey, look man, can I just have my Sam’s Card –“ Merchant started to ask.

“I will shoot your fucking cat,” Wade interrupted him with a threat.

Merchant’s mouth dropped open and hung like that for several seconds before remembered to close it. “I don’t even know what that means. I don’t have a cat.”

“Then who’s kitty litter did I just shit in?” Wade asked, reasonably.

No one answered, or said anything else for several moments.

Wade shrugged, really not that bothered, and turned towards Jeremy with the gun casually hanging by his side. “Anywho, tell me something, what situation isn’t improved by pizza? Do you happen to know a Megan, Orflowsky? Orlavsky? Orlovsky? Am I getting that right?”

Jeremy, of course, nodded. Wade smiled. “Good.”

To reward himself, he ate some of the pizza. It was good pizza, pizza that he was going to eat for the rest of the night and then regret because it was so greasy. So really good fucking pizza.

“Cause she knows you. Jeremy, I belong to a group of guys who take a dime to beat a fella down,” Wade explained casually. He could see Jeremy swallow hard and his eyes widen at his description.

Just to make sure that Jeremy realized just how much of an asshole he could be, Wade handed a slice of the pizza to Merchant, who hesitantly reached for it only for it to drop to the floor.

“And Megan, she’s not made of money, but lucky for her, I got a soft spot,” Wade said with a shrug and another bite of pizza.

“I’m, uh…” Jeremy started to stammer.

“A stalker,” Wade finished for him. “Threats hurt, Jer. But not nearly as much as serrated steel. So keep away from Megan. Cool?”

Jeremy quickly nodded. “Yes, sir,” he agreed readily.

Wade smiled. “Kay, we’re cool,” he said with a shrug.

Jeremy blinked and shifted, as if he was expecting someone to pop out and grab him from behind. “Wait, we are?” he checked.

“Yeah, totally done.”

The tension started to drain from the room as Wade, then Merchant, and finally Jeremy started to laugh. Wade pointed over at Merchant and chuckled, “You should have seen your face!”

“I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared,” Merchant admitted with a laugh and a shake of his head at that emotion, never mind the fact that Wade could tell he was still very scared.

“Soft spot, remember?” Wade pointed out with a shrug.

And then, very suddenly, Wade dropped the pizza box, lunged at Jeremy, and slammed the teenage boy against the wall, all while holding him by the neck. “Read a book in her general direction again, and you will learn in the worst of ways that I have some hard spots too. That came out wrong. Or did it?” He smirked and then kissed Jeremy’s cheek.

Very appropriately, Jeremy whimpered.

* * *

A couple of hours later that night, Wade tracked down Megan at a skate park. The box of pizza was in his hand and he had taken some sun glasses to try out. They really weren’t his style, at all, but Wade also knew he could pull off anything.

“Megan,” Wade greeted as he stepped up in front of a group of teenage girls who were sitting on the sideline. He took great pleasure in throwing down the pizza box, which fell open to reveal a pile of photos with Jeremy and Wade, the latter holding a gun at the former, and Jeremy holding a handwritten ‘I’m sorry’ sign.

“You’ve heard the last of Jeremy. He’s sorry,” Wade said, and the stains that were on Jeremy’s pants directly agreed with that.

“No friggin’ way!” Megan gasped as she knelt down and started to look at the photos.

“Shoulda brought my roller blades, show these kids how it’s done,” Wade commented as he looked around the park.

Megan got up from the ground and hugged him tight enough to make him stagger a bit. He patted her on the back and smiled at the rest of the group. “And that’s why we do it. But mostly the money.”

“Think you could fuck up my step-dad?” One of the girls asked.

“If I give a guy a pavement facial, it’s cause he’s earned it.”

Seeing that there really wasn’t anything left for him to do, Wade started to head out when Megan shouted behind him, “Hey, wait! You’re my hero.”

Wade turned around so that he was walking backwards so that Megan could see him shake his head. “No, no, no, no, no. That I ain't.”

* * *

_Nope. Never will be._

* * *

Wade knew where he was going. He walked down the familiar sidewalk that led to a familiar alley. As a man passed him that he recognized, Wade took the opportunity to punch the man in the balls, causing the man to sigh and say, “Fuck you, Wade.”

* * *

_I’m just a bad guy who gets paid to fuck-up worse guys._

* * *

Wade entered the familiar building and breathed in deeply. There was something almost comforting of the scent of cheap alcohol and the sweat of everyone in there. It wasn’t a good smell, in fact he had seen some people gag when they came in, but to Wade it meant he was home.

* * *

_Welcome to Sister Margaret’s. It’s like a job fair for mercenaries. Think of us like really fucked up tooth fairies, except we knock out the teeth and take the cash. You best hope we never see your name on a gold card._

* * *

Greeting a few men as he walked through the bar, Wade stopped at the bar and smiled at the two bartenders, Weasel and Amy.

While Weasel looked the part of a bartender who worked at Sister Margaret’s, Amy did not. She had long red hair tied back in a ponytail and always wore a floral dress of some kind. She had a bright smile and she was, well, cute!

Even her voice was cute. When she greeted him with a, “How did it go with Jeremy?” she sounded a bit like a Disney princess speaking.

Wade smiled and took out the gold car and placed it on the bar. Amy grabbed it and then started to dig around for the envelope when he paused her with, “And I ain’t taking any babysitting money, alright? Make sure that gets back to Miss, uh…”

“Megan Orlovsky?” Amy reminded.

Wade nodded. “Her,” he agreed.

Amy gave him that special smile she gave _everyone_ when they did something she was happy about. “That’s so sweet of you, Wade,” she commended. “You deserve something special. What drink do you want, it’s on the house.”

Wade drummed his fingers on the top. “Hmmm, how about a blowjob?”

Amy’s face turned crimson. She looked down at the bar and then started to play with the end of her ponytail. “Of course, Wade,” she agreed in a softer voice that was higher pitched then the one she usually spoke in.

Turning away, she started to make the drink as Weasel walked over to Wade and started to talk to him. The drink making process gave her time to have her blush lessen and her mind to stop circling in stupid fantasies, like the always did when Wade was nearby.

She had started working at the bar only a few years ago. Everyone had been so welcoming to her, even if some of them did tease her in the specific goal to make her blush. But on her second shift, when Weasel was busy making up the official list for the deadpool, Wade had walked into the bar and had given her a flirty smile and had asked,

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing here?”

She had, somehow, stammered out some sort of reply that must have made her looked insane. Weasel, hearing her, had come over to check on her and had ended up having her go make Wade’s drink while they chatted. Ever since that first meeting, though, Amy had completely fallen for Wade. There was something about his smile, or maybe it was his eyes? Whatever it was, it made Amy’s entire body feel light as a feather.

Of course Weasel knew how Amy felt about Wade. It was obvious to anyone who had seen them interact, he claimed, but Amy always pointed out that, if it was so obvious, why hadn’t Wade noticed?

Still, there were sometimes she thought he noticed. Like just now when he had asked for a blowjob. Sure, it was his regular drink, but, well, couldn’t Amy have hope that it meant something else this time?

“Has Amy gotten your money yet?” Amy heard Weasel ask from behind her. She froze. Technically, giving Wade an ‘on the house drink’ was against the rules.

“Nope! My drink’s on the house.” Even with her back turned, Amy could imagine the smug smirk on his face.

She could also feel Weasel’s eyes as he turned around, stared at her back for a long minute, and then turned back to Wade. “You did something warm-blooded again, didn’t you? I bet you let the kid of easy, too.”

“Oh, he’s not a bad kid, he’s…Just a little light stalking. I was way worse than him when I was his age. I was traveling to exotic places. Baghdad, Mogadishu, Jacksonville. Meeting new and exciting people,” Wade replied.

“And killing them, yeah. I’ve seen your instagram. So what was special forces doing in Jacksonville?”

Amy frowned. She had also seen the Instagram, Weasel had shown it to her in one of his many attempts to convince her to _not_ keep wanting Wade. It didn’t work.

“That’s classified. They have wonderful T.G.I. Friday’s.”

Amy stared down at the drink, which had long since been done, and sighed. She really couldn’t hold off facing Wade. It was always hard to see his face and not allow her hands to noticeably shake. But Wade ordered this drink all the time, and he knew, just like she knew, that the drink had to be ready by now.

So she fixed a smile to her face, turned around, and placed the drink on the bar top in front of Wade, all while trying to ignore the smile that lit up his face at the sight of it. “Alright, Kalua, Bailey’s, and whipped cream. Here is your blowjob from me.” Amy could already feel her face blushing hard. “Do you have to order that?”

Just giving her a melting smile, Wade got the attention of Kelly, which made Amy quickly look down. Kelly was one of the waitresses and, while she was very sweet and kind, she was also very pretty. Far prettier than Amy.

“Kelly, Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. Could you bring that over to Bob, please? And tell him it’s from Buck.”

Kelly nodded and gave Wade a big smile that Amy could still see despite her eyes fixed firmly on the bar.

“Wade,” Amy started after enough seconds to compose herself. “That really wasn’t nice.”

Wade shrugged. “I don’t take the shits, I just disturb them.”

As it often did, a commotion broke out in the rest of the building, which made Amy side-step to the side to be able to see properly. Despite her heels, she was not tall enough to see over the sat down Wade.

Bob, who had gotten the blowjob from ‘Buck,’ had not taken the implied insult well. He had gotten to his feet, marched over to Buck, and had punched him in the face. Buck, who had no idea what was going on, got to his feet and started to punch back, which caused an all-out fight between the two.

Amy sighed and poured a drink for herself, Wade, and Weasel. Hers was just water, she had never been able to stomach alcohol, while Wade’s and Weasel’s were just a normal beer.

Wade smirked at Weasel and offered his glass for his to hit together, which he did. “Cheers. To your health.”

Weasel just shook his head. “Fuck you,” he replied without much enthusiasm.

One of the fighting men picked up a stool, making Amy and Weasel wince. “I just bought that stool,” Amy said with another wince as the stool was broken over the another man’s back.

Thankfully, the fight was fairly short and one of the mercs got the better of the other one and knocked him to the floor. “Stay the fuck down,” he yelled at him.

Amy quickly stepped out of the relative safety of the bar and walked over to the fallen man. Everyone spread for her, and one of the men even mumbled an apology over the fight.

She just gave him a wane smile and then knelt by the man and placed her hand on his wrist. The bar was silent was everyone waited for her verdict. She got to her feet. “He’s still breathing,” she said.

Many of the people groaned in the bar, less than pleased with the results, but they stopped when Amy frowned at them.

Everyone liked Amy. She was a nice ear that didn’t give a sarcastic and barbed reply to their woes like Weasel did, and she would always hold them to a standard that felt…right. She gave them respect that the rest of the world didn’t.

So when Amy frowned at them, many of the people who had groaned now looked down at the ground in shame. Already, several people who had taken part in the fight started to clean up.

Heading back over to the bar, Amy gave Wade her best glare.

“That wasn’t funny, Wade,” She informed him.

Wade had the dignity to look bashful. “Yeah,” he agreed half-heartedly.

Her hands on her hips, Amy looked over at Weasel. “Did anybody win today?”

Weasel shook his head. “Nobody.” He gave Wade a side-eye. “Nice try, Wade.”

“You got me. I picked Boothe in the deadpool. Who’d you pick?”

“I picked Bill Cosby,” Amy admitted.

Wade laughed loudly. “You actually picked someone?” He held up his hand. “That deserves a high-five.”

Smiling, Amy gave him a high-five. She then blushed and looked down at the bar. “I’m glad you approve.”

“It took me forever to convince her to do it,” Weasel informed Wade in a stage whisper. “She hated the idea of gaining something from someone else dying.”

“I still really don’t approve,” Amy put in.

Weasel rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”

“You never answered my question. Who’d you pick?” Wade asked.

Weasel suddenly became very busy with cleaning the bar top. “You know, Wade, uh, um…”

Wade’s mouth dropped open. “No… You did not bet on me to die.” Tilting back to check, Wade read the deadpool and then looked at Weasel and shook his head. “You bet on me to die. Wow. Mother fucker, you’re the world’s worst friend. But joke’s on you. I’m living to 102, and then moving to the city of Detroit.”

Weasel sighed. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to win money. I never win anything.”

“Yes you do,” Amy cut in. “You beat me in _Life_ the other day.”

Wade chuckled. “You guys played _Life_ together? What are you, 80s and in a retirement home?”

Amy looked down. “I like the game,” she said in a soft voice. She knew, logically, that Wade was just teasing her. But that didn’t make it hurt less.

Wade shrugged. “Whatever.” Getting to his feet, he called to the rest of the bar, “Soldiers of fortune, drinks on me!”

Of course, everyone cheered and raised their glasses to Wade in thanks. Weasel sighed. “Domestic! Nothing imported,” he informed the people who were giving them odd looks.

Weasel was the one who saw the women approach Wade first. He quickly turned to Amy, who was starting to prep for the drink orders they were about to get, and quickly asked, “Do you want to take off early?”

Amy frowned and checked her watch. “I still have a few hours left. Besides, I can’t leave you when everyone is about to order drinks.”

Weasel was about to protest, but he saw Amy’s eyes flick to Wade, and he saw the way her expression change as she saw Vanessa, a girl with long dark brown hair and an outfit that left little to be imagine for the reason she came to the bar.

And Weasel knew that Amy heard Vanessa’s innuendo filled greeting of, “Woah, woah, woah, woah, baby. You sure you wanna shoot your full wad?”

“You sure you don’t want to take off?” Weasel asked Amy in a lower voice.

Amy looked down at the top and took a deep, long breath. “He’s an adult, Weasel, and so am I. We’re both free to make our own decisions, and I should respect his…his decision.”

“I could enforce the ‘no prostitute rule,’” Weasel offered.

“Is that an actual rule?”

“Well, no,” Weasel admitted.

Amy shook her head. “You’re sweet Weasel, but that’s okay.”

She made it her goal to not look over at Wade and Vanessa. Even when Vanessa laughed at Wade’s jokes. Even when Vanessa flirted hard, and even when Wade flirted back harder. But she broke her goal when she heard Wade ask: “Hey, what…What can I get for, uh…$275 and a yogurt lite rewards card?”

And then Vanessa replied with, “Maybe about forty-eight minutes of whatever the fuck you want.”

She put the yogurt card into Wade’s mouth and swaggered out, with Wade watching her every move.

Wade looked over at Weasel. “Did she just put a gift card in your mouth?” Weasel asked after sighing.

Amy watched out of the corner of her eyes as Wade walked out of the bar and after Vanessa. She blinked rapidly and her breathing sped up as Wade walked away from her.


	3. Chapter 3

After Wade and Vanessa had walked out together, Weasel had forced Amy to go home, saying that she was in no state to make drinks, which was true. She had been staring at the seat that Wade had been sitting at before he had left. With Vanessa.

Amy had relented, mainly because she could see some of the other patrons looking over. Some of the people who worked at Sister Magaret’s had picked up on Amy’s feelings for Wade and had threatened on more than one occasion to just tell Wade how Amy felt, whether the red-head wanted them or not. Seeing those people start to give each other looks and head over made Amy’s heart start to speed up.

So she agreed, telling Weasel she would see him when he got off, and then she had headed out as quickly as she could, very much _not_ thinking about how she was retracing the steps that Vanessa and Wade had only ten minutes prior.

She also refused to think about what they were doing now, though the look in Wade’s eyes kept popping up in her mind. The way he had stared at Vanessa, with such _lust_ was a way he had never stared at Amy. He seemed to look at her like a younger sister, trying to protect her from everyone…very _violently_ protecting, really.

One time, a patron had started to flirt with her. He was just drunk and new and Amy had tried to ignore him. He had gotten a bit more forward though, starting to get closer to her and even grabbing her arm when she made to leave. She had asked him, as calmly as she could considering the fear she felt, to let go of her arm, but he just tightened his grip and yanked her against the bar counter. She had looked up just in time to see Wade appear right behind the man. He had...hit the man very hard on the back of the head, knocking him to the ground. He then preceded to kick the man in the stomach several times, all while ordering him to  _never_ go near Amy again. When he had finished, he had checked on Amy, had ordered her to show him her arm to make sure the man hadn't left a mark.

Amy had thanked Wade later by giving him a round of drinks on the house, though she hadn't approved of his methods. She truly didn't like violence - it made her think of her ex and how he would act sometimes. But even though she didn't fully like what Wade had done, it still had made her have a small warm feeling because Wade had cared enough to help her.

* * *

The apartment that Weasel and Amy lived in was a couple blocks away from the bar. Amy unlocked the door and stepped inside, quickly double locking it. The area they lived in wasn’t the nicest by any means, and break-ins where a risk.

She flicked on the lights, taking in the old couch, the old TV, the old _everything._ She and Weasel kept in clean enough, but that didn’t take away from the run down feeling of the apartment. Once they saved up enough money, she and Weasel had talked about maybe replacing some of the worse items, but all their money was going into Sister Magaret’s to keep it maintained.

She fell down onto the couch and closed her eyes. She could remember the first time Weasel had brought her here so very clearly.

* * *

_Weasel had pulled her aside one night, taking in her haggard appearance and her one dress. “Amy, where are you sleeping at night?”_

_Amy hadn’t meant to start crying on Weasel, but everything was ready to spill out, and Weasel had been the first to ask in a serious manner and no the joking way Wade had asked her – which was just another ploy to make her blush._

_She had explained about how her husband had started to come to Sister Magaret’s in look of extra money, how he had fallen in love with a woman he called Angel and had left her, taking all their money with him. She had tried to make ends meet but when she had found a little golden card with the bar’s name on it, and with no money for her rent, she had ended up coming._

_Weasel had simply nodded, letting her cry as all the pain from when her husband left her, of getting kicked out of her home, came up. When she had calmed down, he had left her to close the bar early and then led her to his apartment, promising her that, while it wasn’t much, it was home. And while Amy had been in shock at the state of the apartment, which was beyond filthy, she had also fallen in love with the little area._

* * *

Amy winced as her phone ringing pulled her from the distant memories. She fumbled for the mobile and grabbed it, picking it up with a, “Hello?”

“Amy!” the red-head winced at Wade’s cheerful voice. It was the last one she wanted to here, knowing he was with Vanessa. “We need to settle a debate.”

“We do?” Amy asked, frowning. She never debated anyone, especially not someone who she could hardly speak in front of face to face. Phone was much better, she didn’t see Wade’s eyes, but that was still rare.

“Vanessa and I,” Amy winced, “Which ring is better? Voltron: Defender of the Universe or Voltron: Savior of the Universe.”

“Defender,” Amy replied without thinking, and winced when she heard Wade say triumphantly to Vanessa that they got to spend thirty more minutes together. “If that’s all Wade, I really would like to head to bed.”

“Bed? It’s 11. Sister Magaret’s doesn’t close until 1,” Wade pointed out, a hint of a frown in his voice.

“I wasn’t feeling well, so Weasel let me sign off early,” Amy said quickly, probably too quickly by the silence that came from Wade’s end. She had always been a rubbish liar, even when on the phone.

“I’ll stop by in the morning to check on you,” Wade said firmly.

“You really do-“

“Gotta go, see you in the morning!”

Amy glared down at the phone as Wade hung up. Now she had to deal with Wade coming over in the morning, and who knew what he meant by ‘morning,’ to check on her. And Weasel would probably ask how Wade’s night went and he would probably reply in graphic detail – details she didn’t want to know.

Shaking her head, Amy stormed into the bathroom to take a hot shower, wash up for the night, and then go to bed.

* * *

It turned out that morning meant ten for Wade. Amy had just been finishing her breakfast of oatmeal when the doorbell had rang. She could hear Weasel groan and then the creak of the bed as he turned over. She had crept over to his door and closed it softly before opening the front door, wincing at the sight of Wade stood there with a box of donuts and a coffee.

“You feeling better?” He asked cheerfully as he walked into the apartment. He headed straight to the kitchen and placed the box of donuts onto the small island, giving Amy no choice but to head over.

“Yeah,” Amy replied, trying very hard to look in his general direction while also not focusing. It was probably the only way she would  _ever_ be able to lie to him. “How was your night?” she tried to ask causally, only to blush as she realized what had probably happened to Wade that night. The exact topic she had been hoping to avoid and she had brought it up!

Wade confirmed the horrible suspicion she had by smirking and asking, “Do you _really_ want to know the answer?”

Amy blushed, looking down at the countertop in front of her. “I suppose not,” she managed to stammer out.

Wade laughed and shook his head. He gave her a smile and said, “You’re so easy to tease.”

“One of my weaknesses,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry. She had to turn away, grabbing a drink of water. “Do you want anything to drink?” she asked, her back to Wade.

“I’m good,” he shook the coffee had brought in for a reminder, making Amy blush. Wade did things to her head, made it hard for her to remember details like the coffee he had brought in.

She turned back around, water in hand, and tried to sip on it casually, only to somehow _choke_ on it and started to splutter, causing some of the water to hit her dress…her _white_ dress. She turned crimson, and could feel her face heating up.

Wade started to laugh, pointing at her face as if it was the funniest thing he had ever seen, which made Amy blush even harder, which made _Wade_ laugh even harder. And his laugh, which had always made Amy smile, made the red head start to giggle. Soon the two of them were both laughing hard with tears rolling down Wade’s face.

They went on like that for a good minute, not noticing Weasel walking out of the bedroom and standing in the living room, his arms crossed. It was only until Wade’s phone rang, which he picked up while trying to take deep breaths to compose himself, that Amy turned to see him.

“Sorry,” she apologized. Wade’s laugh had been rather loud, and hers likely hadn’t helped the sound situation.

“When did he get here?” Weasel asked with a hand wave to Wade, who had turned his back slightly to speak to someone.

“Ten minutes ago?” Amy guessed. “I’m sure he’ll leave in a second,” she added. Weasel really wasn’t a morning person, and Wade’s personality could be a bit…grating, even to her when she had been having a bad day.

Wade hung up, making a face at Weasel. In response, Weasel just gave Wade a rude hand gesture. “The Missus wants me,” he said cheerfully. He opened the box of donuts, grabbing one, and then headed for the door. When he passed by Amy, he tugged on her hair fondly.

“Get me another card,” he called to Weasel as he left. “I’m getting bored.”

He closed the door behind him, whistling in the hallway as he left. Amy grabbed the strand of hair Wade had tugged and curled it around her finger. It was such a brotherly act, tugging on her hair and teasing her…couldn’t he see she wanted something more?

Weasel gave her a sympathetic look. “He’ll come around, once he gets bored,” he promised the, ‘of Vanessa’ hung in the air. “Why’s your dress wet?”

Amy looked down at the white dress, all humor in it forgotten. “It’s nothing,” she said with a shake of her head.

* * *

The months from when Wade left the apartment, saying that Vanessa had called, marched like a war drum. Steady and unsympathetic. Vanessa had become a constant companion to Wade at Sister Magaret’s. She sat by his side at the bar, giggled at his jokes, and waited, watching the door, when Wade was out for a golden card.

Amy wished she could hate her, but she couldn’t. Not only was it not in her nature, she didn’t even hate her _ex-husband,_ but Vanessa was kind. She would talk to Amy and smile. They had become some sort of friends, really. And not once had Vanessa asked her about Wade, something that Amy was very grateful for.

After all, it wasn’t the first time Wade had dated anyone. There had been a couple of waitresses that he had dated when Amy had first started working at the bar. They would sit, asking her questions about what he liked until Weasel came to her rescue and asked if they were planning on actually ordering anything. They hadn’t last long, Wade had grown bored of them.

But Vanessa had already hit the three month mark, and it was now Valentine’s Day. She was dressed in a red shirt, tight, with little white hearts that went perfectly with her white jeans, also tight. She looked perfect, her lips holding a bright red that Amy knew would just slide up her face had she worn it. The red and white eyeshadow she wore didn’t even look childish!

Vanessa had smiled and had complimented her dress when she had seen her, saying it was “positively adorable,” which Amy supposed it was. It was a white long sleeve dress with little bright red hearts sprinkled on it. Very flowy, very loose, and very different from Vanessa’s.

Amy made Vanessa her drink and then went about serving the customers and wishing them a happy Valentine’s Day, not bothering to ask what they were planning for the day. Most hadn’t ever married, and those who did marry weren’t any longer.

A couple had asked her and she had just shrugged and said that she would be at Sister Magaret’s all night. She and Weasel didn’t have anything planned for the night – she didn’t want to think about her ex-husband and he didn’t see the point. She knew that it was a long standing rumor that the two of them were dating because of her living situation, but Weasel honestly saw her as a close friend, a sister. Unlike with Wade, she was very happy in this light. Weasel was like a snarky older brother to her – nothing close to a lover.

She noticed, of course, when Wade came in. She always noticed Wade. She watched out of the corner of her eye, feeling her cheeks start to heat up as he walked straight to Vanessa and kissed her on the neck before whispering into the woman’s ear. Vanessa smirked, turned, and got up, her hips shaking as she walked out of the kitchen with a smirking Wade behind her.

She looked back down at the glass she had been cleaning and frowned at a spot. She rubbed at it hard, probably harder than necessary, until Weasel took the cup lightly from her and commented, “It’s clean, sweetheart.”

* * *

Only a couple days later, a week really, Amy watched as Vanessa sipped on her drink. She was decked in red and yellow and had explained that it was Chinese New Year. Like her Valentine’s Day outfit, the yellow and red ensemble was tighter than needed, showing off more than it covered. And like Valentine’s Day, Vanessa was waiting for Wade.

She talked to Vanessa briefly before heading off to tend to someone else, seeing the poor man close to a break down. She had listened intently for the first half of what the man was saying, but in the second half Wade came in, and Amy found herself paying more attention to him than the distraught man. She nodded, trying to give a reassuring smile to the man as Vanessa turned in the stool and kissed Wade, wrapping her arms around his neck. She saw them break apart, Vanessa still keeping her arms entwined so that their foreheads were touching. Wade whispered something and the two of them left.

“…So what do you think?” the man asked Amy, pulling the red-head back to his issue.

Amy frowned, trying to recall what the man had said. His daughter was angry at him for not coming home last Christmas, but he had been on a job so that he could afford the presents she wanted. “Talk to her?” she suggested.

The man’s mouth dropped open and he nodded quickly. “I’ll try that! Thanks Amy!”

He leaned over and hugged the red head, who had little choice but to awkwardly pat the man on the back before he hurried off.

Weasel looked over at her and shook his head. “I know I’ve said to move on and all, but not to _him_ Amy. He’s twice your age.”

* * *

A bit under a month later, Amy frowned as she made Wade a blowjob. “A blowjob from me to you,” she said, her voice actually not shaking.

Wade made a noise of thanks and gulped it down in once sip. She could hear his foot tapping on the bar, making a thump noise with every hit. He was glancing around nervously as well.

“Are you alright?” Amy finally asked, giving Wade a concerned frown. “You seem tense.”

“It’s International Women’s Day,” Wade said as explanation, his voice a note higher than normal.

Amy blinked. “I wasn’t aware,” she admitted. “I didn’t know that it was even a thing.”

Wade nodded. “It’s very much of thing.”

“And it’s making you tense because…?”

“Vanessa wants to celebrate it.”

Amy frowned, not seeing a problem with that from Wade’s perspective. From what she had seen, the couple that was Wade and Vanessa – as much as it hurt to think of them like that, it was what they are – had celebrated every holiday since the two had started dating about four months ago. Three months longer than most girls lasted for Wade.

“Well I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” Amy said as brightly as she could manage. She could see, out of the corner of her eye, Vanessa sauntering over decked out in a tight black shirt, corset include, and tight leather pants. Judging by her added height, she was also wearing stiletto heels.

Wade actually jumped in his seat when Vanessa tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, only to be pulled into a kiss by the woman before she led him out of the bar.

Weasel walked over to Amy with a shake of his head. “I’m setting you up,” he stated.

* * *

Weasel had decided that Amy needed to partake in Lent, mainly by giving up on mooning over Wade. Before Amy could protest, could even point out that she _wasn’t_ Catholic, she had been sat in front of man who had introduced himself as James. James, Weasel had explained, was someone who popped in occasionally, was very nice, and very single. James had rolled his eyes at the last one and had happily told Weasel to fuck off. When Weasel left, James rolled his eyes and shook his head, saying “That man,” as if they had shared some type of joke.

Amy had frowned. “I find him very nice. We live together.”

James had looked horrified and had spluttered on his drink. “Why would you live with him?” he asked.

“Because he’s kind,” Amy had all but snapped.

James raised his eyebrow and held up two hands in a placating manner. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Weasel and I have known each other since college, he was my roommate.”

Amy smiled, seeing a genuine fondness on James’ face as he spoke. “He’s very kind,” she commented.

James nodded. “He saved this kitten once, nursed it back to health and brought it to a shelter once it was better.” He shook his head. “I have no idea how he ended up working here.”

“Everyone comes here eventually,” Amy pointed out with a shrug. “It’s a known fact.”

She hadn’t meant the last part as a joke, but James took it as one anyways. He laughed and gave Amy a smile. “How did you get here?” he asked.

“I needed a job after my husband left me and I ended up here,” Amy explained simply, shifting her seat a bit.

James nodded. “I visited a couple times to talk to Weasel before, but I never actually sat down until now.”

The door opened behind him, and Amy’s heart thumped painfully as Wade and Vanessa, hand-in-hand, walked into the bar. James turned around and looked at the couple briefly but quickly turned back around. “Is it always this slow?” he wondered.

Amy shook her head. “People get guilty when Lent starts to pick up and they don’t come in as often,” she informed him. “They always make a mad rush after though.”

The rest of the date went on like that, Amy doing her best, and actually succeeding, in not paying attention to Wade and Vanessa. She and James had ended up walking out, James wanting to head to his place and she wanting to talk to him just a bit longer.

At the end of the alleyway, their agreed upon place to leaves, James turned to Amy. She honestly didn’t know what she expected him to do, but _kiss_ her wasn’t it. What surprised her even more was when she kissed back, feeling that familiar heat that only her ex-husband, or Wade’s eyes, build up.

He had backed her up until she felt the rough bricks on her back through her dress. She gave a little breath-y sigh as he pulled back, only to feel his kisses move from her lips to her jaw line and then down her neck.

He pulled back and gave her a small smirk. “I find,” he said in a breathless voice, “that it’s better to wait on this kind of thing.” Amy had blinked and felt her lips turn to a frown, but James quickly kissed her, a peck really. “I think the walk to my apartment will be long enough.”

Amy nodded rapidly.

And that night, for the first time in a long time, Amy didn’t think of Wade.

* * *

Amy stood behind the bar, blushing as James gave her a smirk from behind his glass. Ever since the date that Weasel had set up between the two, they had become a couple, similar to Wade and Vanessa. She had found herself spending more time with James, who had an uncanny ability to stop any thoughts. They also talked and did small stuff like go eat dinner or go to a movie, but usually they were doing anything but talking.

It wasn’t the relationship that Amy had dreamed of, one where they were both friends and then more, but it was _something._ Something that had shocked everyone else as much as it had shocked Amy.

At least every single regular had popped over throughout the months, making sure James knew the world of hurt he could be in for. James had taken it with a smile and a nod…and then had ordered a shot.

Even Wade had come over. He had been talking to Vanessa when the woman had leaned over, whispering something. Wade had shot up and had practically stormed over to Amy and James, making the red head jump back almost guilty even though they had only been talking.

“Who’s this?” Wade asked with a fixed smile that made Amy shiver. It looked less like a friendly face and more like a lion about to snarl.

James had smiled at Wade. “I’m James,” he answered.

Wade glared at James, “I wasn’t talking to you,” he snapped, before turning back to Amy.

The red head blushed. “Wade, this is James. We’re...in a relationship,” she somehow managed to squeak out.

Wade stared at her, and then broke into a wide smile. “My little girl is growing up!” He turned back to James. “I’m so proud of her.”

James blinked and looked over to Amy, confusion evident on his face. She gave him a weak smile, and he, with a shake of his head, returned it to deal with Wade…just in time for the man to grab him and pull him up by his jacket. “If you hurt her –“ he lowered his voice, making it impossible for Amy to overhear him. Whatever he said, though, made James’ face turn an unhealthy paleness. Wade let him go and patted him on the shoulder.

He turned, smiling once more, to Amy. “Happy Halloween!” he said cheerfully.

Amy blinked at the tone change. “Thanks,” she said after a hard swallow.

Wade pointed at her little witch hat that was placed on her head at a tilt. “You’re a witch?”

Amy nodded, giving a little bow with her head. “I might cast a spell on you,” she warned, blushing at the smile Wade gave her.

She didn’t even notice James looking at her behind his glass once more, this time with a small, thoughtful frown on his face. Instead, she was too focused on Wade walking out with Vanessa, the two hand-in-hand.

* * *

Sister Magaret’s was closed for Thanksgiving, and since Weasel was not the festive sort, Amy found herself on a date with James. The two of them had gone to a small restaurant nearby his apartment and had gotten a shared pasta bowl.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” James said after a swallow. “What do you want for Christmas?”

Amy frowned as she mulled the question over. “There’s this dress I’ve been eyeing,” she admitted with a small smile. “It’s this really gorgeous black one with red flowers on it.”

James nodded. “I’m sure it will look absolutely stunning on you.”

Amy blushed. “If you’re getting me something then I have to get you something,” she stated. “What do you want?”

“You,” James answered promptly. “I know it’s cliché, but all I want for Christmas is you, Amy.”

Amy smiled warmly. “James,” she started, struggling for the right words. “That…that means a lot,” she admitted.

“Every word of it is true,” he promised. “Amy I’m in love with you.”

Amy felt the world shift from underneath her. The last time she had heard those words was from her ex-husband, a man who had left her after saying the same thing. She could vaguely hear James quickly saying that he knew they had only been dating for a couple months, but the rest was a cloud.

She could feel her heart speeding up and she got to her feet quickly. “I need to go. I need…I need to think.”

And then she all but bolted from the restaurant. Back at the table, James placed his head in his hands and groaned in frustration.

* * *

Amy stared down at her phone frowning at the name ‘James.’ It was the morning after the disastrous date. She had come home, shaking from the cold and crying. Weasel had seen her, seen the state she was in, and had led her over to the couch, gotten her something hot to drink, and listened as she stammered out what had happened. He hadn’t spoken once until she was done, and then the only thing he said was, “What are you going to do now?”

Amy had stared down at the steam coming up from the drink and sighed. “I’ll talk to him when he calls and explain myself.”

But now that he was calling, Amy found herself itching to decline the call and just let him make his own conclusions about their relationship statues. She shook her head, dispelling the thought. Very slowly, she pressed the green button and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi.”

“Amy! I am so sorry for last night. We’ve only been dating for a couple of months and –“

“James, it’s fine,” Amy cut in quickly. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “You had every right to say it; it just scared me because the last person who said that to me was my ex, and he left me. I would hate losing you too because…” she swallowed hard and looked around at the room, seeing that it was still empty. “Because I feel the same way,” she stammered out.

There was a long pause from James’ side of the phone. For a painful moment she thought he had hung up, and was about to ask if he was still there when he spoke in a soft, hopeful voice. “You do?” he asked.

“I do,” Amy admitted. She took a deep breath and then added in a rush, “I don’t want this to change everything with us.”

“Of course, of course,” James’ agreed. “Do you maybe want to talk about this further in-person? I know a great restaurant that’s quiet.”

“That sounds perfect,” Amy said with a small smile.

As James quickly told her the restaurant, Amy frowned as she felt her phone buzz three times rapidly with messages, and then a beeping noise interrupted James, informing her of a new call. “James,” she cut in apologetically. “Can I call you back? Someone’s trying to reach me.”

“Of course! I’ll send the rest of the information through text.”

Amy smiled, said her farewell, and then hung up the call so she could speak to…“Vanessa? Is everything okay?”

Amy heard Vanessa take in a shakey breath. “Amy…Wade has late-stage cancer. He’s…he’s not taking it well. _I’m_ not taking it well. I know it’s a lot to ask but can you come over for the night? I have to work and I don’t want to leave him alone. Not when he’s like this.”

Amy’s mouth had fallen open at the news, and her mind was still reeling to the point where she hardly heard Vanessa’s plea. Somehow, she was able to choke out a “Of course Vanessa. I’ll get over there.”

 “Thank you so much, Amy. You’ve always been such a light in his life.”

Running a hand through her hair, Amy closed the phone when she heard the beep, signaling the end of the call. Running over to the wall, she grabbed her heavy jacket and slipped her phone into its pocket. “Weasel, I can’t work tonight! I’ll text with the details!” She yelled. She heard a grumbled reply from Weasel’s room, but didn’t bother to respond. Instead, she rushed out to go and be with Wade. All the while her phone buzzing cheerfully in her pocket as James’ sent their dinner plans…plans that Amy cancelled an hour later.


	4. Chapter 4

On the bridge once more, Wade stepped away from the skewered man and sheathed his swords. “Now, if I were a two-hundred pound sack of assholes named Francis, where would I hide? Oh.” He paused and turned, hearing the sound of a motorcycle starting up. The motorcycle, a rider dressed in all black, because of course, was bearing down at him.

Very unimpressed, Wade drew one of his swords and threw it at the front wheel of the motorcycle. The rider went flying through the air and landed with a nice, resounding thud, hitting his, unfortunately, helmeted-head.

Smirking, all for his own benefit, of course, Wade stood in front of the rider as if he was about to kick a soccer ball, which reminded him…“A hush falls over the crowd. Rookie sensation Wade W. Wilson out of Regina, Saskatchewan lines up the shot. His form looks good.” Running up, he kicked the rider’s head, sending it backwards against the wall of the bridge and stopping any progress.

“And that's why Regina rhymes with fun. Ladies and gentlemen, what you're witnessing is sweet, dick-kicking revenge.” He gave the rider another kick for good measure. “Oh! Giving him the business.” Having accidently moved him over with the force of his kicking, Wade quickly threw the rider back against the wall where he belonged.

“Incoming!” With that as the rider’s only warning, he kicked hard at the helmet, sending it flying away and revealing the all too horribly familiar face of Francis.

“This is taking unsportsmanlike conduct to a whole new level!” Wade commented lightly as he stabbed his sword through Francis’ shoulder and then through the wall behind him, pinning the man in place.

“Looking good, Francis. Well rested. Like you've been pitching, not catching. Ringing any bells? No?” at the completely bored expression on Francis’ face, Wade shook his head with a huff. He lifted the mask of his costume up, revealing his gruesome face – Amy would disagree with that internal dialogue – to jog Francis’ memory more.

“How about now?” He snapped.

Francis eyed him and raised an eyebrow slowly. “Huh. Wade fucking Wilson. Well hello, gorgeous.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I got bit by a radioactive Sharpei. Yeah, and whose fault is that, Francis? Time to undo what you did to this butterface.”

“You should thank me. Apparently I made you immortal. I'm actually quite jealous,” Francis pointed out with a smirk.

Wade just shook his head. “Yeah, but this ain't a life worth living, is it? Now, I'm about to do to you what Limp Bizkit did to music in the late '90s,” he warned.

Lifting his hand back, Wade blinked as his fist hit something metal and hard. Slowly uncurling it, he felt around the area and frowned. “Dad?”

And then he got picked up and throw into a car.

* * *

_“I think we can all agree that shit just went sideways in the most colossal way. Well maybe not the most.”_

* * *

Amy shook out her hair, wet from the rain pouring outside. She closed the door behind her and set down the bag of groceries. “Weasel, I’m back early!” She called through the empty bar.

It was early afternoon, several hours before the bar would open. She had picked up the drinks and small food items they were running short of. Usually it took at least an hour, but today it had taken half of that time. The horrible rain, which was cold and had a bad habit of slipping down people’s necks and making them shiver, had brought the city to a sleepy halt.

Weasel poked his head over and made a face. “You’re soaked,” he commented as he threw over a towel.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Is Wade here?” she asked.

Wade had been coming earlier and earlier lately. He claimed it was because he liked their company so much, but Vanessa had told Amy a different story. She said that Wade was becoming more distant, as if that would somehow ease the sting that his… _death_ would cause her. He had explained it as spring cleaning, as wanting everyone, not just Vanessa, to remember how he really was, and not what cancer would do to him.

“Not yet,” Weasel responded. He winced at the sound of the door opening. “Did you get some of the grass I asked for?

“The Triticum aestivum one? Yeah. You do realize it’s just wheat.”

“But it’s excellent for the immune system,” Weasel pointed out. He held out his hand expectantly and, with a small frown, Amy handed it over.

“I’m going to call James. He was trying to reach me earlier.”

Weasel shook his head. “Of course he was. When was the last time you saw him in person?”

Amy looked down, a blush rising on her cheeks. “Go check on Wade,” she ordered. Turning away, she picked James’ name from her contacts and called him. She placed the phone against her ear and chewed on her bottom lip. The phone rang four times and then rolled to voice-mail, making Amy frown. She hung up and texted James, only to get a ‘I’m in a meeting and can’t talk’ automated message response.

Slipping her phone back into her pocket, Amy stepped out into the rest of the bar just in time to hear Weasel offer Wade the wheat grass. “Excellent for the immune system,” he commented.

Wade shook his head. “Jesus Christ, you sound like Vanessa. Here, check it out. She's sending away for all these colorful clinic brochures.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a handful of wrinkled brochures and slammed them down onto the counter. “I'm sure they're all FDA approved. Chechnya. Isn't that where you go to get cancer? We've got China, and central Mexico. You know how they say cancer in Spanish?”

“How?” Weasel asked.

“El cancer.”

“Oh. I could have guessed that,” Weasel muttered to himself.

Walking over, Amy picked up one of the brochures and scanned it. “This one seems good,” she commented. She handed it over to Wade, who looked at it, likely for the first time, and then shook his head. “It’s at the South Pole.”

Amy frowned and grabbed at the brochure, but it slipped out of her hand, revealing a Polaroid photo. She picked it up carefully and looked down at the photo of Vanessa and Wade, clearly in bed, and clearly taken before Wade’s diagnosis.

Wade hadn’t smiled like that since.

Leaning over her shoulder, Weasel smiled and took the photo from Amy. “Look how happy you look here,” he pointed out, showing the picture to Wade. “Mind if I keep this? Put it up, so I can remember? When you looked alive. At least now I'm gonna win the deadpool, now that you're gonna die tragically of cancer.”

Amy hit Weasel on the shoulder, making Wade give the red-head a grim smile. “Thanks,” he said dryly.

Rolling his eyes, Weasel frowned in sudden remembrance. “Oh, and that guy over there came in looking for you.” He handed Wade a card with a number etched into it. “Real grim reaper type. I dunno. Might further the plot.”

As Wade walked over with a frown, Amy turned to Weasel. “Are you still drunk?” She asked. “You’re acting really weird.”

Weasel rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” he snapped, confirming Amy’s suspicions. He was always a bit hostile to everyone, even her, after a couple of drinks. “Go and set up the bar or something.”

Amy just frowned and crossed her arms, her gaze moving from her boss to the man that was talking to Wade with a serene smile. “He looks familiar,” she said after a pause. “Doesn’t he?”

Weasel looked over at him as well and then shook his head. “You’re thinking of _The Matrix.”_

“I’ve seen him somewhere else,” Amy insisted. “I just…” huffing, she ran her hand through her hair and grabbed a glass to clean it, making sure to keep an eye on the familiar man.

Thankfully, the meeting between the man and Wade was short. Wade got up and, after downing the man’s drink, walked back over to the bar. “His drink is on him,” he snapped. Grabbing a couple of items, he quickly left.

The man, Amy saw, sat at the chair for a bit longer, texting someone on his phone. He had an odd smirk on his face, one that made Amy’s hair stand on end. He got up suddenly, grabbing his jacket and placing it over his arm. He walked over to the bar and said, in a smug voice, “How much do I owe?”

Looking around for Weasel, Amy sighed as she saw the man across the way, too far for her to get him to deal with the man. Turning back, she looked at his order. “Five,” she said after a short pause.

The smug man handed over a ten. “Keep the change,” he said with a smirk. He turned and walked out of the bar, leaving Amy to watch him go.

Amy frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t like him,” she stated.

Weasel bit out a laugh behind her. “That’s a first.”

Amy just continued to frown after the man, a nagging sense as she tried to remember where she had seen him.

* * *

Later that night, Amy found herself standing the alleyway, her arms wrapped around herself as James scuffed his shoe against the graveled ground. “Another man has replaced me,” he said after a long, agitated pause.

Amy frowned and shook her head. “If you’re accusing me of cheating on you,” she started slowly. She could hear the tremble in her voice that she got whenever she was upset. “Then save your breath. I have _never_ cheated on anyone.”

James sighed deeply. “But you’re in love with another man.” At the scandalized look Amy was giving him, he held up his hand. “I’m not stupid. I see how you act with Wade. We haven’t gone on a date in months because you’ve been taking care of him.”

“He’s my friend and he’s dying of cancer,” Amy snapped. “Of course I’m going to take care of him.”

But James shook his head. “Not to this extent, Amy.” He looked down. “You’re a really, really sweet girl. But as much as I care for you…this isn’t working out.”

Amy opened her mouth to say something, to protest, but then she closed it again. “You’re right,” she said in a near whisper. “I’ve been horrible to you.”

And really, she had been. She cared for James deeply, loved him really. But Wade had always, always been the man she had had an eye for. She had gotten got at ignoring her feelings for him when she had been dating James, but then Wade’s diagnosis and Vanessa reached out to her and…she had pulled away from James and focused back in on Wade.

That wasn’t fair to James, at all. He deserved better than that.

James took Amy’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Perhaps if we had met at another time,” he said with a shake of his head.

He stepped away, releasing her hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t come here.” When he saw Amy’s intent to protest this, he shook his head. “I only came here in the first place because of you, Amy.” He looked down at the ground and sighed. “I hope you find someone that you can love just like you love Wade.”

He turned away, leaving Amy to watch him go. When he had left the alley, she felt the first of many tears begin to fall. She wiped at them hastily, and walked back into the bar. Weasel looked over at her when she entered with a knowing, somber look. She tried to give him a small smile, but it fell away too quickly.

* * *

At about six in the morning, Amy jerked from her sleep to the sensation of her phone vibrating. Reaching under her pillow she pulled it out, accepted the call, and groggily asked, “What?”

“Amy, thank god you picked up. I can’t find Wade! All his stuff is gone and there’s a suitcase missing…” Vanessa’s frantic voice, shaking with emotion, trailed off. “Did he come over there?”


	5. Chapter 5

Still in mid-air from when he had been thrown, Wade was thinking to himself. And since he was in a fanfiction, that meant he was really talking aloud.

“Okay. Let's pro-con this superhero thing. Pro: they pull down a gaggle of ass. Dry cleaning-discounts, lucrative film deals both origin stories and larger ensemble team movies. Con: They're all lame-ass teacher's pets.”

He landed with a grunt and looked up to see, shit fucking ass himself, Colossus, a giant man of metal, frowning at him. “You know I can hear you,” he pointed out.

Wade got to his feet and shook his head. “I’m not talking to _you._ I’m talking to them,” he corrected with a point to the computer screen…or whatever was looking at him.

Colossus turned to Francis, who had that annoying, probably British, smirk on his face. “Stay right here,” he commanded. He turned back to Wade with a face that a disapproving pan might wear. “You've been warned before, Deadpool. This is a shameful and reckless use of your powers. You will both be coming with us.”

Wade frowned briefly under his mask, but then he shook his head and the frown right off. Well, not right off. But the same idea applies. “Look, Colossus! I don't have time for the goody-two-shoes bullshit right now!” He paused and looked over at the teenage female next to Colossus. Her short black hair and bored expression gave off the impression that she was distinctly not interested.

Did that mean that readers weren’t interested either? The horror of the thought made Wade nearly shake.

“And...you are?” he asked once the horrible idea had passed through him.

“Negasonic Teenage Warhead,” the girl snapped, somehow making the literally best name in the entire fucking universe sound _boring._

But Wade wasn’t bored. He cocked his head to the side in his best imitation of a puppy, complete with the eyes, and said: “Negasonic Teenage...What the shit? That's the coolest name ever! So what, you're like his sidekick?”

Colossus frowned and crossed his arms almost defensively. As if Wade would ever hurt someone with that awesome of a name! “No, trainee,” he corrected with a fond look to Negasonic.

Wade nodded sagely. They must have been on an unplanned teaching run. “Let me guess. X-men left you behind on, what, shit detail?”

Negasonic raised one of her eyebrows. “What does that make you?” she pointed out.

“Pretending you're not here, Negasonic Teenage Warhead. Trade names?” Turning around lightly, he punched Francis in the face and turned back to the two X-men.

“Can we go?” Negasonic huffed out to Colossus with a wave of her hand.

Wade bristled at the implication of him being boring to his party-crashing guests. “Look! I'm a teenage girl! I'd rather be anywhere than here. I'm all about long, sullen silences, followed by mean comments, followed by more silences. So what's it gonna be, huh? Long sullen silence, or mean comment? Go on.”

There was a pause from Negasonic as she carefully regarded her options, likely thinking them over very carefully to pick which one would apply best with Wade…

She shrugged. “You've got me in a box here.”

Wade punched the air. “Ah-hah!” He cheered, fully realizing just how rare it was to best a sullen teenager.

“We can't allow this Deadpool. Please, come quietly,” Colossus said, cutting into the conversation with the same ‘disapproving pan’ look as before.

Wade glared at him. “You big, chrome, cock-gobbler!” he snapped.

Colossus frowned. “That's not nice.” He pointed out.

“You're really gonna fuck this up for me? Trust me. That wheezing bag of dick tips has it coming! He's pure evil! Even Amy hates his guts! Besides, nobody's getting hurt!”

A body suddenly fell from the highway sign it had somehow gotten stuck to, causing the trio to turn around. Even Wade winced at the noise. “That guy was already up there when I got here,” he said, which was completely and totally the truth.

He would never lie to his loyal readers.

Colossus shook his head. “Wade, you're better than this! Join us! Use your powers for good.”

Not dignifying that with a response, Wade bent down a grabbed a metal disk from a car tire. He threw it like a frisbee over to Francis, smiling when it hit the man’s head and sent it back against the wall of the bridge. “Heads up,” he called over to him, just to be polite.

“Be a superhero!” Colossus pleaded.

Wade turned around to face Colossus. “Listen, the day I decide to become a crime-fighting shit-swizzler, who rooms with a bunch of other little whiners, at the Neverland mansion of some creepy, old, bald, Heaven's Gate-looking mother fucker, on that day...I'll send your shiny happy ass a friend request. But until then, I'm gonna do what I came here to do. Either that, or slap the bitch out of you.”

“Wade…” Colossus tried.

“Hey-“ Negasonic cut in, her brow furrowing.

“Zip it, Sinead!” he snapped at her.

She glowered at him and then snapped back at him, “Hey, douchepool!”

Ignoring her, he yelled to Francis as he turned, “And I hope you're watching!” He pointed to Francis…

For a long moment, Wade just stared at the spot where Francis had been sitting. He stared at the empty space. And then he gasped, his hands going to his cheeks. All the work he had put in, all the work Amy had put in, and none of the work that Weasel had put in…all for naught! He could just imagine Amy’s frown when he told her that Francis had gotten away _again._ She’d be happy _he_ was alright, sure…but she’d be disappointed. She was no fan of the shit bag either.

Colossus choose that unfortunate, heartbreaking time to lumber forwards and tisk, like some metal abomination of a hen, “Quite unfortunate.”

Wade looked back at where Francis had been, and then at Colossus, and then at the space, and then at Colossus and then at the space and then at Colossus and…“That does it!”

The yell still fresh in the air, Wade jumped and hit Colossus on his head, breaking his own hand in the process. “Oh, Canada! That's not good.”

“Wade, please,” Colossus tried to placate.

But Wade was pass reason at this point – he was pissed. More so for Amy then himself. He hated to disappoint her and now he had to disappoint her with _this._ He knew, logically, that Amy hated death, and would likely feel bad if even Francis was dead, but he also knew that it would disappoint Amy and make her upset that _he_ was upset. She was always so empathic like that. He could already see her frown and the way she would hug him and say ‘Oh Wade, it’s okay.’ Even though it WASN’T okay and he was VERY, VERY ANGRY!!

“Cock shot!” He yelled as he punched Colossus where his big metal dick should be…but it wasn’t because Colossus was very strange. His hand also broke with the collusion. “Oh, your poor wife!” He said through totally not gritted teeth.

“You really should stop.” Colossus said, looking down at him.

Wade just held up his hands, as if he was a fearsome dinosaurs. “All the dinosaurs feared the T-rex.”

Flipping in the air, he kicked Colossus’ head with his foot, breaking it in the process. Wincing slightly, he heard Negasonic _laughing_ in the background as Colossus just maintained the same concerned pot look.

“Ah! I promise this gets worse for you, big boy!” Wade vowed.

“This is embarrassing. Please, stay down.” Colossus pleaded, looking down at Wade, who was still on the ground.

“You ever hear of the one-legged man in the ass-kicking contest?” Wade asked. He got to his foot, hoping on the one leg while trying, and failing, to hold his broken limbs.

“Do you have off switch?” Colossus grumbled, a frown as he eyed the hoping, little man in front of him.

“Yeah, it's right next to the prostate. Or is that the on switch?”

This seemed to be too much for Colossus. With a shake of his head, he snapped, “Enough!” He hit Wade with the back of his hand, sending him into a parked car. Negasonic laughed once again, watching with clear delight as Colossus walked over to Wade, who was groaning in pain, and handcuffed him. Turning around, Colossus started to walk towards Negasonic with Wade getting dragged on the ground next to them.

“Let us go talk to the professor,” Colossus said with a sigh.

“McAvoy or Stewart? These timelines are so confusing. Dead or alive you're coming with me!”

Colossus just shook his head. “You will recover, Wade. You always do.”

Snapping his arm back into place, Wade pulled out a knife and then paused. He turned to the lovely viewer, or reader, and hissed an aside, “You ever see _127 Hours?_ Spoiler alert.”

He pulled out his trusty a knife, a gift from Amy, of all people. She really was the most peaceful person he had met. She had given it to him after she heard all that had happened when he was being ‘cured’ of cancer. She had said that she hoped that, should he ever wind up in a similar position, he could make some use with it. She likely hadn’t been thinking of _this_ as a situation, though Colossus and Amy had met and it hadn’t gone well for Colossus. Seeing Amy so furious, her face starting to turn as red as her hair, was probably the best thing he had ever seen.

But back to the actual story. Wade used his gifted knife and started to _saw of his hand._ Negasonic noticed when he was nearly done and gagged. “Oh, my God. Nasty.”

Colossus looked down, puzzled, only to get a hit of Wade’s blood on his shiny metal face. Wade couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, there’s the money shot, baby! Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret.”

He had timed it perfectly and, just as they arrived at the edge of the bridge, Wade was able to flip over the side, landing in the back of a truck that was driving past. His hand, a fallen comrade in his escape, was left flipping off Colossus.

* * *

_“Rock, meet Bottom. When life ends up breath-takingly fucked, you can generally trace it back to one big, bad decision.”_

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

_“Rock, meet Bottom. When life ends up breath-takingly fucked, you can generally trace it back to one big, bad decision. The one that sent you down the road to shittsburgh. This, well, this was mine.”_

Wade Wilson, a man dying of cancer, was strapped on a stretcher and getting rolled into a dimly lit, slightly concerning facility. Of course had seen far worse but…shouldn’t there have been, at the very least, some sort of ruse, look-a-like hospital. He knew the Agent Smith clone was shady at best, but still.

He honestly had expected something a bit better.

“Mr. Wilson, nothing warms my heart more than a change of someone else's. You finally hit, 'Fuck it,’” the Agent Smith lookalike greeted with a smile that was likely plastered on with grease.

Wade looked up at him, the gurney slowing so he could speak to him. “Just promise me you'll do right by me. So I can do right by someone else,” he said, his words sincere.

All he could think about since he had called the man’s number was how Vanessa and Amy would act. He knew Vanessa would worry – she had worried about him so much though, and he hoped she would be able to move on, to find someone else. And Amy, sweet, sweet Amy…he hoped that she found peace as well. She had been so supportive lately, often spending evenings with him while Vanessa was working. Sometimes they would talk about everything they could think of, and sometime they would just be comfortable in silence.

It was far different then how Vanessa and he acted together, much less exhausting by any means. It was relaxing really, knowing there was no real pressure to do anything with her.

He hoped he’d be able to see Amy, and Vanessa, again.

The man’s “Of course,” pulled him out of his somber musings. He felt the gurney start to roll away and, knowing _he_ needed some sort of smile from someone, called back to the man:

“And please don’t make the super suit green. Or animated!”

He was rolled into a large room, where other people, his fellow patients, sat on partially covered beds. One woman who he saw had spiked growing out of her back. Another man was on his bed, panting and bleeding. Wade frowned. “This place seems sanitary. My first request is warmer hands.”

He was ignored as he was instead placed onto a freezing table and strapped down by not warm hands. “And, Jesus, a warmer table! You should really come up with a safe word fellas. I'm thinking pork and beans.”

He started to get unnerved by the lack of response he was getting from anyone. The men left him, and were replaced by a woman with dark hair, large muscles, and a masculine face. She was chewing on a match stick as she pushed Wade’s head down and strapped him to the table. “Aren't you a little strong for a lady? I'm calling wang. What's up with the matches? Oral fixation? Or just a big Stallone fan?”

She placed her hand over his mouth and almost looked, well, murderous, but then a male’s British voice called out in a clear, if slightly gentle, order, “Patience, Angel.” Obeying him, Angel removed her hand. Though she gave the man a disgruntled look. “All in good time,” the man said.

Wade frowned and strained his neck to look over at the man. He was wearing a doctor’s coat, and was sitting. Balanced on his lap was a salad in a plastic box, clearly store-bought. “Are you here for the turn down service or what?” Wade asked him, hoping that _this_ man might have a sense of humor.

And while the man did crack a smile, it was a very sarcastic one. “We have another talker,” he commented lightly.

“I'm just excited about my first day at super hero camp,” Wade said with a smile.

He was only mildly surprised when Angel snapped, “Shut the fuck up.” She tied a rag over his mouth, causing Wade to make a ‘mmph’ noise in protest.

From his seat, the British man inspected him. “Mr. Wilson, my name's Ajax. I manage this workshop. My welcome speech used to be filled with euphemisms like, 'This may hurt a little.’ 'This may cause you some discomfort.’ But I've grown blunt. This workshop is not a government led program. It's a private institution that turns reclamation projects like yourself into men of extraordinary abilities. But if you think super human powers are acquired painlessly, well...I'm injecting with a serum that activates any mutant genes lurking in your DNA. For it to work we need to subject you to extreme stress.” As he had talked, he had gotten to his feet and had been preparing something to the side. Wade hadn’t been able to see it, despite his attempts to, but he quickly realized what he had been preparing when a IV filled with blue liquid was connected to his forearm. The machine was turned on and the blue liquid headed towards Wade.

“You've heard the whole, make an omelet break some eggs thing, right? I'm about to hurt you, Wade. I was a patient here once myself, you know. The treatment affects everyone differently. It made Angel inhumanly strong. In my case, it enhanced my reflexes, and scorched my nerve endings so I not longer feel pain. And in fact, I no longer feel anything,” the man narrated.

Wade had enough. He started to try and say something, but it only came out as incoherent mumblings until Angel took the gag out of his mouth. “Thank you! Thank you. You have something in your teeth. Just in the middle there. Romaine lettuce, or something. It's been bothering me for a long time.”

Frowning, Ajax checked his teeth, only for Wade to chortle out a laugh. “Ha! Made you look. Hey, is Ajax your actual name? Because it sounds suspiciously made up. What is it really? Kevin? Ruth? Scott? Mitch? Dexter? Is it Basil Fawlty?”

Ajax shook his head. “Joke away. The one thing that never survives this place is a sense of humor,” he said.

“We'll see about that.”

“I suppose we will. He's all yours.”

Ajax left, making Wade frown at the man’s retreating back. “Oh, come on. You're going to leave me all alone here with less angry Rosie O'Donnell?”

And then Angel punched him in the face, and his head went back against the table.

* * *

The facility Wade was in was…not a nice place. He had been put through ‘experiments.’ Almost all of them, at the very least, bordered on outright torture. Throughout each experiment, which did include waterboarding at one point, Ajax was always, always there. Always narrating in a bored voice.

“This is how it's going to work. Adrenaline acts as a catalyst for the serum, so we're going to have to make you suffer. If you're lucky, your mutant genes will activate and manifest in spectacular fashion. If not, well, we'll have to keep hurting you. In new and more painful ways, each more different than the last. Until you finally mutate. Or die.”

During a break in the experiments though, Wade found himself speaking to Cunningham, a man who claimed he resembled a ‘worm,’ but Wade didn’t see it. The two were the only sane people left, as most were either in too much pain to talk, or they were being experimented on.

“Got a bucket list?” Wade asked one day. “I'd really like to light a spliff off of the Olympic Torch.”

“Pass it to me right after,” Cunningham replied, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Let's not forget naked tandem base jumping with the WNBA Sacramento Monarchs,” Wade put in.

“Anything on my bucket list would involve public nudity,” Cunningham admitted, making Wade chuckle – a rare noise in the facility, even from someone like Wade.

“Giving Meredith Baxter Birney a dutch oven.”

“No, receiving a dutch oven from Meredith Baxter Birney.” There was a pause from Cunningham before he said in a lower, subdued voice, “Making banana pancakes for my kids.”

“Amy and Vanessa. I want to see them,” Wade said, his thoughts, though he didn’t truly know why, focusing more on Amy then on Vanessa. He could practically imagine Amy’s face, a bright and wide smile on it.

And then Ajax went and ruined it. “Lovely. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm touched,” he commented, causing both men to jump from their seated position.

“We’re just joking,” Cunningham said nervously.

Ajax waved his hand. “No, no. It's okay. I encourage distractions. Wouldn't want you giving up on us, now would we?”

Cunningham seemed to shrink into his bed as Ajax took a step towards him. Wade glared at the man’s back and called out loudly, “Hey, don't take any shit from him, Cunningham. How tough can he be, with a name like Francis.”

“Francis?” Cunningham asked, his brow furrowing.

Francis turned towards Wade, a look of rage on his face. But Wade ignored him. “That's his legal name. He got Ajax from the dish soap. F, R, A, N, C, I, oops! I snabbed the dry-cleaning tag off your lab coat. FYI, I could probably get you the super hero discount.”

Francis stormed over to Wade and glowered down at him. “You are so relentlessly annoying.”

Wade smiled. “Thanks. Never heard that before.”

“Why don't you do us all a favor and shut the fuck up? Or I'll sow your pretty mouth shut.”

Wade just continued to smile, even in the face of the threat. “Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you. See, here's the problem with round-the-clock torture. You can't really step it up from there.”

This time, Francis was the one that smiled. “Is that what you think?”

* * *

Wade winced as he was roughly strapped into a glass machine. “If this doesn't unlock your mutation, well...Nothing will. Now, what we're going to do is lower the oxygen concentration in there to the exact point you feel like you're suffocating. If your brain waves slow, meaning you're about to pass out, then we'll turn up the O2. If your heart rate slows, meaning you're able to catch your breath, we'll turn it back down. And that's where we'll leave you. Right there.”

Wade stared at the man, feeling his face drop. “Ugh, I thought you guys were dicks before,” He snapped.

“You know the funniest part of all this? You still think we're making you a super hero. You, a dishonorable discharge hook deep in hookers? You're nothing. Our secret, mate, is that this workshop doesn't make super heroes. We make super slaves. We're gonna fit you with a control collar and auction you off to the highest bidder. Who knows what they'll have you do. Terrorizing citizens, putting down freedom fighters. Maybe just mow the occasional lawn,” Francis smiled at the way Wade’s entire body stiffened at what he had been told.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wade asked, truly horrified by the man in front of him.

“You're never going home after this. now there's a brave face.” Francis pulled back and started to walk towards the edge of the machine, about to pull it down.

“Wait, wait! Seriously, you actually have something in your teeth now.”

Shaking his head, Francis started to shove the lid down. “Enjoy your weekend,” he said cheerfully.

As the lid closed with seal, Wade struggled fruitlessly against the straps holding him down. “Weekend? Back up, weekend?”

Francis never responded, choosing instead to start the machine. Wade started to choke, his body straining as he fought for air.

* * *

When it was darker outside, Wade opened his eyes at one point, gasping for air. He looked into his reflection, expecting to see his familiar face looking back at him. But instead he saw dark red lesions breaking out across his skin. Wade opened his mouth and _screamed._

* * *

_“Did I say this was a love story? No, it's a horror movie.”_

* * *

When Francis came back, he opened the case, turning off the machine. He chortled at Wade and winced. “Fucking hell. Looks like someone lost his shot at homecoming king.”

“What have you done to me?” Wade growled at Francis. He would have yelled, he wanted to yell, but his voice was gone from the yelling earlier in the night.

“I've merely raised your stress levels high enough to trigger a mutation,” Francis said calmly with a smirk.

“You sadistic fuck!” Wade snapped, glaring as much as he could at Francis.

“I've cured you, Wade. Now your mutated cells can heal anything. It's attacking your cancer as fast as it can form. You know, I've seen some of the side effects before. I could cure them. But where's the fun in that? Now I'm gonna shut you in again Wade. Not because I need to. Because I want to. Ah, well. Go ahead.”

He walked away, leaving Wade to glare after him. Angel suddenly appeared in his vision, that match stick still in her mouth. As she leaned over to adjust his straps, she grumbled “You smell like shit.” In response, just as Angel moved her head over his, Wade brought his up as violently as he could, head butting her.

She recoiled back and then glared at him. “Mother fucker –“ She made to fight him, but then Francis came and pulled Angel back.

“Hey, hey, hey! It's alright! It's alright. I think we owe him that, yeah? Take off. Go on, off you go.” Glowering at both Francis and Wade, Angel stalked off.

Shaking his head, Francis went over to Wade and hissed at him. “Quick question. What's my name? Didn't think so.” Clearly proud, Francis closed the machine once more.

* * *

_“_ _Sorry, Francis, my lips are sealed.”_

* * *

He waited, his nose flaring, for it was his only source of air. He tried to be aware of time, but it was hard to monitor. But he was able to see when the sadistic fuckers that were the ‘workers’ had left. The facility was dark.

It was time.

Wade spit the match out and sent it to his hand. Holding it as tightly as he could he lit it as quickly as he could, struggling to breathe. He threw the match towards the oxygen vent and waited. Just as the oxygen came rushing back into the machine…

The fire hurt. It burned as it the machine, and then the rest of the facility, exploded around him. The machine’s explosion had totaled the facility.

For a moment, all he could do was lie on his stomach and breathe in the air that he had been denied. The smoke hurt his lungs, but he didn’t care, because he had a choice to breathe in if he wanted or to not.

He heard, distantly, screams from the other patients. And then the almost nausea filling familiar voice of Francis complaining. He scrambled to his feet, wincing in pain from his muscles, which had strained against the straps holding him in the machine.

He could feel his clothes tearing off, having barely survived. He tore some of the more annoying, dangling threads away as he stayed behind a curtain, just able to see Francis walking around almost causally, occasionally coughing, as he sprayed with a fire extinguisher. He paused as he peered into the room Wade had been in, seeing the machine empty and likely the source of the fire…

Wade charged with an inhuman roar, causing Francis to jump and turn to face him just in time to get hit with a metal pipe.

The two men started to fight, Wade trying to push him back, to kill him, to _hurt_ him. He wanted Francis to feel everything he and all the patients had felt there. Every tortured scream, yell, breath, or cry. _Everything._

Barely able to hold Wade off, Francis yelled at the enraged man, “You don't wanna kill me! I'm the only one that can fix your barking mug!”

As he grabbed a pipe of his own, Francis fought back as hard as possible to Wade, eventually getting the upper hand of the man. Grabbing a sharper pipe, Francis skewered Wade with it, causing the man to cough up blood as he died. Not taking any chances, Francis bent the end of the pipe.

“What's my name?” Francis asked. When there was no response, he left the naked man behind.

Wade looked up slowly just in time to see Cunningham looked at him, still strapped to his bed like so many of the other patients were. “Wade…” the man, his one friend at the facility, croaked out.

And then the fire took over Cunningham’s side of the facility. The smoke started to grow more and more. Coughing painfully, Wade closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift away.

* * *

He wasn’t dead, though. After the fire had died out, Wade rose to his feet. The rubble, dirt, and ashes rubbed his feet raw. He could feel it cutting into his feet, but when he pulled one up to look at it, the cuts were already healing.

He looked up, feeling sunlight hitting his skin for the first time in months – in what felt like years.

* * *

_“_ _I didn’t get the cure to el cancer. I got the cure to el everything. But there was only one thing – two things - that really mattered.”_

 


	7. Chapter 7

Wade had found clothes, had stolen them really. He had gotten a hoody and pulled the hood on immediately. But that didn’t stop people from looking, from shying away from the strange man in a black hoody and jeans with a horrifyingly ugly body.

He found Vanessa first, wanting to see the woman he had loved…did he still love her? The time at the facility had changed him, that was undeniable. He had loved Vanessa, loved the way she was so similar to him – her spontaneity, her humor, it was all mixed with him. But during his time at the facility, Wade had found his thoughts constantly pulled to a different woman, the woman he tracked down next.

Amy.

He couldn’t help but think about the times before he left, when Amy would just _be there._ Vanessa had always talked, had always done everything she could to distract him about his cancer. There was always _something_ they had to be doing or talking about.

The memories that had carried him through was Amy just sitting there, reading a book or smiling at him. They had watched a couple of movies when he hadn’t been feeling the best. She would come and just ask him in that sweet voice of hers, “What do you want to do tonight?”

He had watched Vanessa walk into her apartment and, squaring his shoulders, turned away. Vanessa deserved someone with the spontaneity and humor that matched. He didn’t have that, at least not until he recovered a bit.

Leaving Vanessa behind, he had headed to Sister Magaret’s, knowing that Amy would be there in a floral dress and a smile.

* * *

Weasel had been there, actually. He had opened the door and stared at Wade and then said, “Fuck.”

“Yep.” Wade nodded. He pushed past Weasel and walked into the familiar bar, taking a deep breath and smiling. Weasel followed behind him.

“You need to leave,” Weasel said, making Wade turn with a frown.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because if you stay, then I’m obligated to punch you in the face.”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you want to put your fist _anywhere_ near my face. Or the rest of my body.”

Weasel huffed and shook his head. “I don’t want to do it either! But poor Amy –“ he cut himself off. “She really missed you,” he said after an awkward pause. “James broke up with her the night you left because she was spending so much time with you. And then she got a call from Vanessa saying you had left.”

Wade looked down. “I wasn’t expecting to come back,” he admitted in all seriousness. The facility had been a long shot, and he figured they wouldn’t be able to cure him and just send him to die.

That hadn’t happened. At all.

Weasel sighed. “Come on and sit down. You sound like you need a drink.”

The two sat down, sharing a beer. It felt familiar. Even before Amy had arrived at the bar, Wade had often stopped by early to sit and drink with Weasel. Just relaxing.

Without really meaning to, he ended up telling Weasel about the facility, the experiments, and then, with a frown, his feelings about Amy and Vanessa. He admitted, though he would kill Weasel if he ever told anyone, that he was _terrified_ of their reactions.

“No way. I'm not making her life as ugly as mine, man,” he protested. He paused for a moment, noting that he really didn’t knew which women he was more upset about.

“Oh, come on, Wade. It can't be that bad,” Weasel protested.

“Ah, bullshit! I'm a monster inside and out. I belong in a fucking circus!”

“Wade, Vanessa loves you –“

But Wade cut him off. “What about Amy, she doesn’t love me. She probably hates me guts!”

“About that,” Weasel winced and swallowed down his drink. “Amy…well, Wade…Amy…”

“Will hate me even more,” Wade finished.

“She doesn’t care what you – Oh. Oh.” Weasel’s mouth fell open as Wade’s hood came off to reveal his new skin.

“Do you like what you see?” Wade asked, the sarcasm dripping from his words.

“No. You look like an avocado had sex with an older, more disgusting avocado.”

“Yeah,” Wade agreed with a sigh.

“And not gently. Like, it was hate fucking. There was something wrong with the relationship, and that was the only catharsis they could find without violence,” Weasel added with a shudder.

“And the only guy who can fix this fugly mug is the brown shitstick from the mutant factory, and he's gone! Poof.”

“Yeah, you've got to do something to remedy this, cause as of now you only have on course of action.”

“Damn straight. Find Francis –“ Wade started to say at the exact time Weasel bluntly proposed: “Star in horror films.”

“What?” Wade spluttered out.

“Star in your own horror films. Cause you look like Freddy Krueger face fucked a topographical map of Utah,” Weasel explained with a motion to Wade’s face and then a shudder.

Wade winced, the metaphor hurting. “Here's what I'm actually going to do. I'm going to work through his crew until somebody gives up Francis, force him to fix this, put a bullet in his skull, and fuck the brain hole.”

Weasel looked ill by the time Wade was done describing his plan. “I don't want to see that or think of it again. But the douchebag does think you're dead, right?”

“Yeah,” Wade agreed with a frown. At the very least he had been left for dead.

“That's good. You should keep it that way,” Weasel recommend.

And then a familiar female voice, which was usually a voice that was filled with a smile that was on her face, called to the two men: “And what about me, Wade Wilson?”

Wade looked up and for a moment, all he saw was red. Amy’s red hair in the sun shining brighter than any image of her he had conjured with his mind. He looked at her, taking in the blue dress she was wearing. Somehow, and for some reason, he stood up.

“Amy,” he said, his voice thick.

Amy took a step forwards, and then another. Wade could see tears glistening in her eyes. “Does Vanessa know? She’ll be so happy to see you back.”

“Are you happy?” Wade asked, choosing to not answer Amy’s question.

Amy smoothed out an imagined crease in her dress. She looked down at the ground and took a several long, deep breaths. “You left,” she pointed out in a soft voice. “You left Vanessa. You left _me.”_ She looked up, almost surprised to find that Wade wasn’t saying something sarcastic. “Don’t do that _ever again.”_

Wade nodded vigorously. “Never,” he agreed.

Amy took another step forwards, now acutely aware of how close she was to Wade. She heard Weasel make some sort of coughing noise, but it was distant. “Does Vanessa know?” She repeated.

“No,” Wade admitted.

Amy made to take a step back, but Wade caught her arm. She didn’t protest as Wade pulled her forwards and instead welcomed it as she gave him a tight hug. She could feel her tears, which she had been trying to fight before, falling down as she buried her face into Wade’s chest.

An action that made Wade feel something warm – something he hadn’t felt with Vanessa. This…this was something he would hold onto.

Amy pulled back, wiping her tears away to look up at him. “You need to tell Vanessa,” she stated.

“I can’t go near her!” Wade protested. He took a step back and motioned to his face. “I’m fucking disgusting!”

Amy frowned. “Don’t say that, Wade,” she reprimanded. “Vanessa loves you. She won’t care how you look.”

Wade just frowned. “I’m danger to her. If Francis finds me she could _die._ I need to lay low while I hunt him down.”

“Who’s Francis?” Amy asked, looking over at Weasel. She only got a wave of a hand and a mouthed ‘later’ in response.

Wade swiveled on his foot and pointed at Weasel. “You were saying something earlier. Something not stupid.”

Weasel blinked. “I was going to recommend wearing a mask. A very thick mask, all the time. I am sorry, you are...haunting. Your face is the stuff of nightmares.”

Amy sent Weasel a glare. “No it isn’t,” she protested. “Wade looks _fine.”_

Wade just shook his head, disagree with Amy. “I’m like a testicle with teeth.”

“You will die alone. If, I mean, if you could die. Ideally. For others' sake.”

“That’ll do,” Wade cut in before Weasel could say anything else. Late he would say that this shut-down was purely out of self-interest and that it had nothing to do with the disappointed look Amy was giving him – _them._

He meant them.

Weasel nodded. “All you need now is a suit and a nickname, like Wade the Wisecracker, or Scaredevil, Mr. Neverdie...Oh shit.” He trailed off with a sigh.

“What?” Wade asked.

“I put all my money on you, and I just realized I'm never going to win the –“

“Deadpool,” Wade said, effectively cutting Weasel off. “Captain Deadpool. No, just Deadpool. Yeah.”

“Yeah. To you, Mr. Pool. That sounds like a fucking franchise.” The two clinked glasses.

And then Amy asked in a soft voice, “You won’t be killing people, right?”

Wade winced. He had forgotten how disapproving Amy was of death. The effort it had taken her to join the deadpool at the beginning of the fanfiction – what the hell made him think that?

“I’ll explain later,” Weasel promised.

* * *

Once Weasel had explained everything Wade had told him to Amy, she still wasn’t a fan of the plan Wade had, even if she agreed the people that had tortured him deserved, at the very least, quite a bit of harm.

She had said originally that she did not want to support Wade, but then Wade himself had asked her to make his costume, to _help him._ He hadn’t gone through Weasel; he had done it himself. Had said he would be grateful, and he had met every word of it. No sarcasm, no cursing, except to describe the outfit as ‘fucking awesome and that ‘this shit's gonna have nuts in it.’

She had made a white hoody, complete with a way to pull up a mask to cover his face should he like. He had gone out that night and had come back bloodied.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Amy’s cry had been the first thing that greeted Wade when he had come into the apartment he had gotten for himself. It was far enough away from Sister Magaret’s and therefore Amy, Weasel, and Vanessa that if anyone tracked him down, they wouldn’t go to the pers – people he cared about.

That didn’t stop Amy from going to his apartment though. He honestly should have _expected_ the cry as he greeting when he got back.

“It’s all healed up,” he reassured her.

Amy got to her feet and eyed the white hoody she had made. “I can try and wash it, but I don’t think it’s salvageable.”

Wade quickly shook his head. “I’ll do it. People will see the outfit and figure it out.”

* * *

In the laundromat the next day, Wade was regretting his choice to clean the clothes. He was trying to get the blood out and, as he struggled with it more and more, he started to grumble about the hassle.

“Seltzer water and lemon for blood. Or wear red. Dumbass,” an older, blind black woman snapped suddenly.

* * *

Following the woman’s advice, Wade handed Amy some new cloth, red this time, and begged her to remake the outfit. After giving her his best puppy-dog eyes, she relented and started to work on it.

Once again, the outfit was a hoody that had the option to cover his face, but Amy had added a couple of extra pockets.

“If you have to go somewhere public,” she started, “then I wanted to make sure that you could get in without hassle.”

Wade had loved the outfit and had worn the mask at all times. His first trip out with it on had led to him ending up a boxing match, which he interrupted by grabbing his target and attacking the man. “Don't make me ask twice. Where's Francis?”

The man made him ask twice.

When he got home and crossed off the man’s picture with a knife, a late Christmas gift from Amy, he frowned and pulled off the mask portion. “He made me ask twice. Is it the mask?”

* * *

For the next outfit, Amy and Wade had ended up going shopping at a higher-end fabric store. Amy had found a good fabric, though it was a bit thick, in red and black. They bought it and Amy got to work.

When she was done, Wade was more than a little impressed. She had made him an actual super suit, complete with padded feet. It was mainly red but with black accents. It also came with a separate hood that was a bit oddly shaped and let people see his eyes.

“It’s not perfect-“ Amy had started, but was quickly cut off by Wade grabbing her into a tight hug. She yelped and stiffened briefly in shock, but she quickly smiled and closed her eyes. “I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic about it.”

* * *

The outfit ended up not working as planned, getting too hot when Wade moved for long periods of time. So they bought a thinner fabric, one that breathed better, and once again Amy got to work. It took longer to make it, long enough that Wade went out a couple of times while she was working on it.

But it was all worth it when Wade tried on the outfit. This was the one; it was perfect.

Wade’s reaction was to scope Amy into a hug and to give her a small kiss on her cheek. She had blushed red and had ducked her head.

“This is perfect, Amy,” Wade said in a sincere voice. “Thank you.”

* * *

That night, Wade came back victorious, with the information from the man that had recruited him that would lead him to Francis. He opened the door and switched on the light in the living room. He looked over and saw Amy curled up on the couch, clearly fast asleep. Walking over, he grabbed a blanket and placed it over her, covering her up. He smiled down at her fondly.

“Thank you so much, Amy,” he whispered to her.

He really, really was grateful for everything she had done for him. Not only had she helped him in the facility, though she didn’t know that, but she had helped him outside of it as well – even if she didn’t fully agree or approve of his plan.

Once again, he found himself thinking about how different Vanessa and Amy were, which led to him feeling an uncomfortable amount of guilt. He hadn’t broken up with Vanessa, hadn’t even contacted her. At first it was because he was scared of her reaction to him, but now it was for a different reason. He had stopped seeing Amy as a younger sister a while back and, the more he was around her, the more he wanted to reach out and kiss her. If he broke up with Vanessa, there would be no stopping him and that made him scared. What if Amy didn’t like him the same way? What if he hurt her – he would never forgive himself.

A small noise from Amy pulled him out of his thoughts. She had shifted on the couch, pulled the blanket around her. He smiled and sat down next to her on the couch, only then realizing how tired he was and how relaxing the couch was.

Within minutes, there were two sleeping forms on the couch.

* * *

_“There. All caught up.”_

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Wade hopped out of the truck he had lifted an ride from an yelled to the oblivious driver, “Sorry about bleeding in all of your garbage! Seltzer water and lemon for blood.” As the driver took off, Wade shook his head. “Whoo! Some kinds of anger can't be managed. Like the kind where your year-long plan ends with the wrong guy getting dismembered! That said, when it comes time for licking wounds, there's no place like home. And I share that home with someone you've met. The old blind lady from the laundry mat, Al.”

He smiled as the surroundings changed back to the fateful day that he met Al. She had grumbled in annoyance, “God, I miss cocaine.”

He pointed at her. “Her.” He gasped. “Ah! Fourth wall break in a fourth wall break. That's like... sixteen walls! She's like Robin to my Batman, except she's old. And black. And blind. And I think she's in love with me. Wait, I'm pretty sure Robin loves Batman too. Too bad for her, but I’m already taken by two women.” He winced slightly. Between falling asleep with Amy on the couch and the bridge he hadn’t had time to break up with Vanessa.

Walking to his door, he knocked on it and called, “Amy?”

The door opened and a the red-head female who nearly constantly stayed at his house opened it. “You were on the news,” she reported to him, a frown on her face. “I can’t believe you caused that much damage!”

Wade tried to look ashamed, he really did, but he was rather happy he was able to take out some of Francis’ men.

He looked up and saw Amy sigh and shake her head. She walked into the apartment, causing Wade to hurry after her, closing the door behind him.

“Yes, I'm old, I wear pants,” Al, his actual roommate, snapped.

“But you're no lady,” Wade replied.

“Don’t be mean!” Amy reprimanded from the kitchen. She was already making Wade’s favorite breakfast, a pop tart heated. The action alone made him smile. Amy was just thoughtful to do something like that – to not only remember his favorite meal and to keep it on stock but to also make it for him.

Keeping an eye on Amy, he slipped his shoes off and changed into a pair of crocs and gave a happy groan. “Oh! So comfy.”

“Upside of being blind, I've never seen you in crocs,” Al said with a frown.

“They’re not that bad,” Amy tried to defend. She really wasn’t a fan of the crocs as well. They squeaked as he walked and had a weird, rubbery smell to them.

“It’s what he _does_ in them that I don’t like. Downside of being blind. I hear everything in this duplex,” Al elaborated.

Amy blushed, picking up on _exactly_ what Al was referring to, and she really didn’t want to here more of it.

Thankfully, Al was done talking and was instead focusing on her furniture project. It seemed like the apartment was calming down…until Wade ran into a wall with his foot and yelled at the offending wall, “Sit on a stick.”

Amy looked over at him with a frown. He was holding himself oddly, favoring one of his hands. That just made her more concerned. If he had hurt himself it should have healed by now. She walked over to him quickly.

“What did you do to yourself?”

Wade sighed and held out his hand, which was still re-growing at was, therefore, almost amusingly small if someone had a dark sense of humor – which Wade, and _his_ fanfiction – did. “It’ll be fine,” he still decided to say to Amy, mainly because she had a frown on her face and was clearly worried about him. “See, already grew an extra three centimeters while we were talking.”

Amy tried not to smile, she really did. But then Wade lifted his tiny hand up and touched her cheek and she couldn’t help but let her frown disappear. In response, Wade’s tiny hand gave her cheek a small pat before he turned away to call over to Al, “How's that Cunen coming along? IKEA doesn't assemble itself, you know.”

“You're telling me. I don't mind the Cunen. It's an improvement on the Holdall,” Al responded before Amy could protest against Wade’s rudeness on the older woman’s behalf.

Wade scoffed. “Please. Anything's an improvement over the Holdall.” He looked over at Amy. “Did you like the Holdall?”

“I don’t know what the Holdall is,” Amy pointed out with a frown.

Wade nodded. “Keep it that way. I'd have taken and Emness or a Tristes over the Holdall. No, I didn't get excited until I saw the Cunen.”

“Screw please,” Al asked.

Amy moved away from Wade and grabbed the only screw that was left for the furniture and handed it Al. The old woman gave her a small smile as she placed the screw in its allotted spot. “Ta da,” she said in a dry voice.

The Cunen now finished, Amy eyed the chest of drawers. It really wasn’t that bad – in fact it was very nicely made and had a nice color to it…she jumped back as the Cunen fell apart with a loud clatter. Al huffed and sat back. “I wish I'd never heard of Craigslist.”

Sitting down next to the two women, Wade explained for the benefit of _someone,_ though Amy had no idea who it was, “And I quote, 'Looking for blind and likes imperfections, must be good with hands.' Or would you rather I build the Ikea and you pay rent?”

“Why so douchy this morning?” Al asked with a frown, a question that, while Amy would have phrased it differently, she also was curious about.

“Let's recap. The cock-thistle that turned me into this freak slipped through my arms today. Arm. Catching him my only chance to be hot again, get my super sexy ex back, and prevent this shit from happening to someone else. So yeah, today was about as much fun as a sand paper dildo.”

“Oh Wade,” Amy sighed. She reached over, across Al, and took Wade’s good hand. “I’m so sorry. I know you worked hard to get that information.”

Wade gave Amy a slight smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes or the rest of his face. “Thanks Amy.”

* * *

At Sister Magaret’s later that evening, Amy smiled as she listened to Weasel tell a joke to a couple of men sitting at the bar. “So the doctor says, 'Well the bad news is, you don't have that much time to live?' He says, 'How long do I have?' The doctor says, 'Five.' The guy says, 'Five what?' The doctor says, 'Four, three, two...'”

The men and Amy began to laugh at the joke, picking up on the punchline before Weasel had even said it. Written down it probably wouldn’t have been that funny, but the way that Weasel said it with such convention made it funny.

“Can I help you ladies?” Weasel asked suddenly, causing Amy to look up. At the front of the bar was a woman, quite a few men, and…

“Francis?” Amy’s whisper caught the attention of the men around her and Weasel. They looked over at her, confused, as she took a step forwards. “Francis?” She said louder, drawing the man’s attention as well.

He looked over with a frown, a frown that only grew when he saw her. “Amy?” he asked, taking a step away from the group he had come with. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What the hell am _I_ doing here; what the hell are _you_ doing here?” Amy snapped. “You leave me and run off with _Angel_ and then think you can come back like nothing ever happened?”

Pulling up the exit for the back of the bar, Amy stormed over to her ex-husband and straight up in front of him, ignoring how the men behind him and the woman – who just _had_ to be Angel – stepped forwards.

“I’m going to ask you once. What the _hell_ are you doing in _my bar?!”_

“Wade Wilson,” Francis answered immediately. “I heard you might be able to point me in the direction of him.”

Amy blinked and then stepped back. “I have no idea who he is. So get the hell out.”

But she had always, always been a rubbish liar to everyone. Francis frowned and took a step forwards, making up _more_ than the distance Amy had kept between them. “I think you’re lying, sweetheart,” he said in a low voice. “Now tell me the truth before – “

“Hey, you're not supposed to be behind the bar,” Weasel’s protest made Amy turn around. She glared at Angel as she stepped casually behind the counter as if she belonged.

“I recognize that girl,” Angel said as she took a picture off the back wall. And then she took another and whistled. “Looks like _she_ knows him as well,” and Amy had a sinking feeling that the ‘her’ was, well, _her._

Francis looked over, motioning for Angel to show him the pictures. One, Amy recognized instantly as the picture of Wade and Vanessa they took right before Wade was diagnosed; the second one was one that Amy remembered personally. It had been after Wade came back. It had been a party at Sister Magaret’s. He was drunk and she was laughing as Weasel took a picture of them – a picture that was now getting shown to Francis.

“That must be Vanessa,” Francis pointed out. “And then that’s…”

As his voice trailed off thoughtfully, Amy had the sudden and very pressing need to move as far as away from Francis as possible. She took a step, and then another. Just as she made her third step, a vice-like grip caught her arm.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” Francis said.

The men around the bar who had been watching the exchange got to their feet and all pointed guns at Francis and Amy. Even Weasel pulled a small pistol, though he pointed it at Angel, who had been eyeing him.

“This isn’t the place to do something like that,” Amy said, her brave words falling a bit flat at the clear shaking in her voice.

Francis just laughed. “I think you and I need to have some catching up,” he said in a very casual voice. He looked to the rest of the bar and gave them a smile. “Don’t worry – I’ll bring her back in one piece.”

In response, the men kept holding their guns, causing Francis’ men to pull their guns out and Angel to swiftly press Weasel against the wall via his throat.

“Amy,” Francis said in a low voice, “If you don’t tell your men to stand down then _someone_ going to get hurt – because of _you.”_

Amy swallowed very hard. She looked out at the men, many of them familiars she knew on a slightly personal level. Then she looked over at Weasel, who had let her live with him because he thought she was a good person.

“Guys it’s okay,” she said in a voice that was trying desperately to sound placating. “Just put the guns down and let us walk out. I promise I’ll come back.”

Slowly, one by one, the men put their guns down. Francis nodded and made a gesture to his men, causing them to put their weapons down as well. He looked over at Angel. “Easy, Angel. Put the little man down. We have everything we need now.”

Still holding Amy’s arm uncomfortably tight, Francis marched Amy away, the group following. As soon as the door closed behind them, Weasel turned to the group of angry men that made up his bar.

“We’re getting her back,” he stated to several nods. Turning his back, he picked up a phone and dialed Wade’s number. “Wade, we have a fucking problem. And by we, I mean _everyone.”_

* * *

And just outside the bar, the knocked out body of Amy was lifted into Francis’ backseat. For a moment, the British man stared down at the red-head with a small, slight smile. He pulled a strand of hair from her face to behind her ear.

But then the moment was gone, and Francis’ smile slipped away. “I knew you would come back to bite me in the ass.” He stated. “You’re too stupid for your own good.” He stepped away from her and slammed the door of the backseat. “Now where did you see Vanessa?” Francis asked Angel, and just as he knew she would, she told him _exactly_ where to find Vanessa.

Perfect.


	9. Chapter 9

Wade and one of the regulars were walking to the strip club where Vanessa worked. Both men were very, very not pleased – especially Wade. Not only had Amy, the woman he had started to see in a romantic light, been taken by Francis, but the shitbag was also her ex-husband. The ex-husband who Wade had sworn to beat to a pulp for leaving her so abruptly.

And now, Francis was after Vanessa as well, the woman who he hadn’t seen in person for ages. _He_ had put her in danger, he had put _both_ of them in danger just for being around him! God knew what Francis was going to do to Amy, to both of them. Wade remembered the torture he had been put through as a patient, as a prisoner…

The thought made Wade speed up walking. He had several men out to try and figure out where Amy and Francis might be while he and another man had decided to grab Vanessa. Weasel had seemed like he wanted to volunteer, but then he had thought better of it, instead trying to use the limited knowledge he had gotten from Amy about Francis as her husband to try and find a spot he would have taken her to.

“Do you know what you're going to say to her?” The regular asked suddenly.

Wade groaned, he hadn’t thought about anything except Amy being in danger, though that would probably make Vanessa hit him. “Ugh, fuck me,” he said after coming with nothing that wouldn’t involve his harm.

“Uh, I'd maybe not start with that,” The regular suggested.

The two stopped talking as they entered the club just in time to hear the DJ – holy shit _that_ was his Stan Lee cameo? If Wade had more time he would have jumped up and down and talked to the man for hours – to call out, “Hey, coming up on stage right now, give it up for Chastity!”

“Or, as I like to call her, irony,” The man said with a small smirk.

Wade frowned in his direction, “Focus,” he snapped.

The man frowned back. “Of course I’m focused. I care about Amy more than _you_ do, considering I didn’t leave her randomly and break her heart.”

Wade blinked. “Are you drunk?” he asked with a suspicious sniff in the man’s direction. “We don’t have time for this. Why don’t you sober up outside if you can’t keep your fucking hands to yourself.” Shaking his head, Wade turned his back on the other man and faced the rest of the strip club.

He had to find Vanessa before numbnuts then, at least then he could get some sort of victory over the British ass. But the hard thing about trying to find a specific person in a strip club was that the lighting was low and it was crowded. He had to shove his way through the crowd before he even caught a glimpse of Vanessa’s hair.

Someone suddenly tapped him roughly on the shoulder, making him jerk around just in time to see the man _glaring at him._ “This is all _your_ fault,” the man snapped.

Wade groaned in frustration. “We don’t have time for this,” he repeated. He tried to turn away from him, but the man grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him back around. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” The man laughed and shook his head. “My problem is that you’re suddenly acting like you give a damn about Amy! Do you realize how much you hurt her by leaving? She fucking loves you Wade, and you broke her fucking heart.”

Wade stared at him for a long moment, his mind taking far too long to process what he had yelled at him. Amy, the red-head Amy who wore floral dresses and blushed at dirty jokes _loved him?_

“And now you don’t even have the balls to respond. Typical,” The man snorted, pulling Wade from his swirling thoughts. “I should have punched you and kicked you out on your ass when you walked through the door. At least I can make up for that mistake now.“

It took Wade, once again, too long to fully process what the man said to him, and that was his mistake. He was suddenly aware of a painful punch hitting him square on the nose, sending him backwards and into the crowd.

“What the hell?!” Wade yelled.

* * *

They were thrown out roughly, Wade protesting the entire time, trying to convince the security guards that Vanessa was in danger. They had just laughed, thinking him as drunk as his companion was. The door was slammed behind them, barring them from entering.

Enraged, Wade turned on the other man. “What the fuck was that?” He yelled. “You just fucking made us loose our chance to get Vanessa!”

The man took a step. “You should be thanking me,” he boosted. “You don’t need Vanessa when you got Amy.”

Growling, Wade grabbed the man by the throat and shoved him against the wall oh so conveniently near by. “If you _ever_ come close to Amy or Vanessa or me, I will make sure you can’t talk again.” He glared at the man. “Is that clear?”

The man gave a very unmanly whimper and nodded.

“Good.” Wade took a step back, allowing the man to fall to the ground. He gave him a sharp kick in the stomach. “Now get the hell out of my sight.”

As the man scurried off, Wade frowned at the strip club.  How was he supposed to get Vanessa now? And what had that man been talking about? He had said that Amy loved him, that her heart was broken by him when he left. The way the man had acted about Vanessa, as if she somehow threatened Amy…

He cursed and kicked the wall, wincing when he broke his toe. It was true, he was starting to like Amy, had definitely had urges around her, but he didn’t want to act on those feelings unless Amy gave him a reason to and she never had…except for all those times she had blushed, all those times she had stood up for him, all those times she helped him because he asked, all those times she smiled at him…fuck. Amy liked him in the exact same way he liked her, and now she was taken by Francis. To make matters worse, the woman he had had sex with for months and then ghosted was _also_ getting taken by Francis and there was nothing. He. Could. Do. About. IT!

He cursed and kicked the wall again.

* * *

Inside the club, the manager walked over to Vanessa, one of his better strippers. She had a great energy about her that seemed to pull men in. “Vanessa! Someone out back asking for you. Something about an old boyfriend and a saint.”

Vanessa looked up, her eyes widening. Grabbing the two things Wade had left behind when he left, his jacket – which she now wore – and his coin purse – which she now used – she slipped to the alley and walked out carefully. “Amy?” She called softly. “Is everything okay? Is _Wade_ okay?”

The female figure she was talking to, which she assumed to be the cheerful, smiling red-head, started to walk towards her. As it got closer, Vanessa took a step back as she realized whoever it was, it was _clearly_ not Amy. The person was too big, too tall. When they stepped completely out of the shadows, Vanessa was able to see a woman with a sharp, angular face and dark hair.

“You have Wade Wilson to thank for this,” she said smugly. “And Amy.” Vanessa turned, deciding to make a run for it. She tried to notify someone by crying out, but all that served was for the female’s arm to slap down on her mouth and for her to be quickly knocked out.

* * *

Around the corner, Wade jerked up at the abruptly stopped cry. He had a sinking pit in his stomach, but that didn’t stop him from sprinting to the alley. He stopped, looking around. It was empty, except…

With purpose, he walked down the alleyway to a small coin purse and picked it up, recognizing it instantly as his. “Fuck...Mother fucker!”

* * *

Wade had sprinted back to his apartment, too worked up to ride in a cab or use the subway. He stormed in and immediately yelled loudly for Weasel.

The man came running, taking in Wade, the lack of the man he had left with, and the lack of Vanessa. “What happened?”

“Fucking asshat tried to pick a fight! Got us kicked out and Vanessa got taken!” Wade yelled. “Asshat thought it was _so_ great because I don’t _need_ Vanessa because _Amy_ loves me!”

Turning towards one of the shitty Ikeas, he kicked it hard, sending it flying apart. “He said I don’t care about Amy because I left her and broke her heart but I do! That’s why I’m hunting down fucking numbnuts Francis!”

He turned on a mannequin, beating at it. Weasel just took a step back, holding up his hands in a placating, or terrified, way. “Wade,” Weasel started in what _might_ have been a try at a calming voice. “Wade you need to calm down before you hurt something.”

Wade just growled and knocked over another mannequin and started to beat that one. They were _Amy’s_ mannequins she had brought over to help with his suit. She would have told him to stop, she would have calmed him down, but she. Wasn’t. There.

“Chocolate! Jimminy! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh, I'm gonna rip this mother fucking –“ he ranted at the mannequin. His phone went off, making Wade growl at the sudden interruption. “Find that! Find that, I'm going to get angry!”

Scurrying away, Weasel grabbed the phone and brought it over. “Here, it says Vanessa. No, wait, it's Francis. He says he wants you to come to him.”

Wade frowned and pointed at the second text Francis had sent. “What are those?”

Weasel looked at the text and also frowned. “Well one’s a red-head female, so I think that’s Amy and the other is the shit emjoi.” When Wade continued to give Weasel a confused face, the man explained, “You know, it's the turd with the smiling face and the eyes. I thought it was chocolate yogurt for so long.”

Wade glared at Weasel. “I need guns.”

“Okay, which ones?” Weasel asked.

“I need all the guns!” Wade yelled.

This led to Wade, Weasel, and even Al ransacking the living space for all the guns that had been scattered over the place. They were all dumped in Wade’s – and Amy’s considering how much time she had spent there – work room.

“That's about 3000 rounds,” Weasel guessed, looking at the stack of many, many guns.

Wade smirked and gave a wink to the person reading. “Well, we all know what I can do with twelve.”

Al, with the second to last gun, came into the room, with said gun pointed at Weasel and Wade. Not trusting her to not accidently shoot him, Weasel backed up very quickly. “Woah, woah, woah.”

“Careful with that, Ronnie Milsap. We're downrange,” Wade snapped as he took the gun from her.

“I was gonna spend the night assembling the Volgie, but this is holding my interest,” Al said with a motion in the general direction of the guns.

Wade shook his head. “I told you, we're going with the Oordvash, not the Bjorsha, get it through your head or get outta fuck town!”

Choosing to not reply, Al thought about all the locations of the guns she knew about and then nodded. “Shit. That's all the pieces in the house.”

Having expected her to say that, Wade shook his head. “Na, na, na, na, na. Let's go, cough it up. Up, up, up, up, up.” He smirked as Al obediently bent over to pull her pant leg up, revealing the small gun she kept strapped to her sock. She took it out, prompting Wade to quickly order, “Ugh, down, down, down.”

“Fuck you,” Al snapped even as she handed the pistol over.

Weasel nodded in approval. “Five cal. I like it.” He turned to Wade and then sighed. “Wade. I'd go with you, but I want to make sure Amy has a nice place to come back to,” he admitted.

Wade nodded, he had expected as much. Weasel had lived with Amy, had treated her like a younger sister. Of course he would know how to make a comfortable place for Amy when she came back. Plus, Weasel was also an unreliable coward at the best of times.

So Wade walked over to his blind roommate and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, Al. If I never see you again, I want you to know that I love you very much. Oh, and also, there's about 116 kilos of cocaine buried somewhere in the apartment, right next to the cure for blindness. Good luck.”

He walked out with all the guns in Amy’s floral duffel bag. Behind him, as he was leaving, he heard Al say to Weasel, “Is that sweet girl alright?”

That just made him walk faster, because it reminded him of just how important the two women at stake were.


	10. Chapter 10

Vanessa had been shocked when, after waking up in the back of a car, to see Amy bound and gagged like she was. Amy had looked over at her with such a sad expression and she tried to say something to her, but the gag made it impossible to understand. The British man yelling over her saying to “Shut up, sweetheart,” probably didn’t help matters.

Vanessa had glared at the man, who was sitting comfortably up front in the passenger seat. Next to him was the woman who had knocked her out, which made Vanessa wince in remembered pain. Whoever that woman was, she packed a punch.

The car pulled to a stop, and Vanessa found herself yanked out of the car by the female, while Amy was also yanked out by the British guy. She looked over at Amy, wanting to know if she was struggling, only to wince when she saw the dejected slump in the red-head. It was hard to see someone like Amy, who had always been full of energy and happiness – full of life, really – allow someone to drag her around like the way the British ass was doing.

It made her want to struggle, and she almost did, but then Amy looked over at her with pleading eyes and shook her head, as if she somehow knew what Vanessa was planning. Vanessa nodded, showing she understood, though she didn’t agree.

The two women were dragged onto some sort of platform, and then unceremoniously tied in place via painful, skin-digging zip ties. Once that was done, the gags were removed from their mouths.

“Thanks, dickless. And I mean you,” Vanessa spat at the British man.

The man rolled his eyes. “Well. You're a talker too? You and Wade.” He paused and then chuckled. “Or is it Amy and Wade? My ex-wife never did have great taste in men, myself included.”

Vanessa looked over at Amy in time to see the red-head frowning at the British man. “Wade is a good man, Francis,” she snapped. “He has stayed loyal to Vanessa the entire time, which _can’t_ be said for you.”

The British man, Francis, just laughed. “Wade’s like a cockroach – and just as ugly as one too. Now, I may not feel, but he does. Let's see how he fights with both of your heads on the block.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Vanessa and Amy by themselves.

“Vanessa I’m so sorry,” Amy said after a small pause. “This never would have happened if I pushed Wade harder. He refused to tell you and I didn’t want to go behind his back.”

“It’s fine,” Vanessa said after a pause of her own. “Were you telling the truth about him staying loyal?”

Amy nodded. “Wade loves you, Vanessa. Just like…” she swallowed hard and then looked down at her lap. “Just like I love him,” she admitted.

She didn’t know what she expected as a reply – anger, telling her back off, something unkind about how Wade would never love someone like _her._ What she didn’t expect was Vanessa to start laughing and then crow in obvious glee, “I knew it!”

Amy looked over at her, frowning in confusion. “You did?” she asked.

Vanessa nodded vigorously. “You always give Wade this special smile,” she pointed out. She seemed to calm down some as she relaxed against the pole they were tied to. “I loved Wade when I was with him, and I loved my time with him. But we were never truly going to last. He and I are too similar and…” Vanessa shook her head, though she was still smiling. “Amy, when he was sick you brought him more joy than I ever did. I think he loves you Amy, and I think that is amazing.”

If they hadn’t been tied up, Amy had the feeling that Vanessa would have taken her hand. “Amy, I will gladly step aside from Wade for you.”

Amy felt tears well up in her eyes. “You really don’t have to –“ she tried to protest, though even she could hear how weak her voice sounded, and judging by Vanessa’s raised eyebrow and smirk, so could she. “Wade and I haven’t started anything.”

“I know, you’ve told me as much. But I’m still going to do it,” Vanessa stated. She sighed and shook her head. “When Wade left me it proved a lot of thoughts I had. Our relationship was not sustainable. Two impulsive people together?” Vanessa shook her head. “I need someone who will stop me from doing something stupid, not egg me on by joining me.”

Amy nodded. “Will my protesting do nothing to stop you?” she asked.

Vanessa laughed. “I’m free to make my own choices, and my choice is to stop dating Wade Wilson.”

The topic officially plated, Vanessa frowned over at Francis, who was speaking intently to a large group of men. “How do you know him?”

Amy sighed. “Francis and I met when I was waitressing a food joint. We ended up exchanging numbers and started dating. That turned to marriage and, for three years, we were happy. He worked on the police force after his time in the military and I was able to continue working as a waitress, but then my job closed down. He promised to support me, and he did, until he got diagnosed with cancer.”

Amy shook her head, hearing Vanessa make a sympathetic noise. “He ended up losing his job as well. We were loosing money until he started working at Sister Magaret’s. A month later the same night he told me he would always love me, he left a note for me to find that informed me he was running off with a woman named Angel would had promised his salvation. I never saw him again.”

Amy huffed. “If I had known that Francis was _that_ Francis, the one that hurt Wade so badly, I would have warned him. Perhaps this all could have been avoided.”

Vanessa frowned. “What did they do to Wade?”

Amy sighed. “I…that’s Wade story to tell, Vanessa. I’m sorry but I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

Vanessa’s frown just deepened. “Is he alright?” she asked.

Amy quickly nodded. “He’s fine – though I doubt he’ll be pleased when he finds out that Francis has us.”

* * *

Amy was right, Wade was not pleased. He was so not pleased that he decided to make a deal with the metal-ass devil, which led to Wade running up to the x-man mansion. He had a couple of guys who were already heading to where Francis and Amy and Vanessa were to scope out the firepower, but he knew that to fight people Francis and Angel he needed backup. Super backup.

He raised his fist to knock on the ornate door, but it was opened instead by the girl, Negasonic. “Ripley! From _Alien 3!”_ Wade greeted with a mock grin – a grin that she couldn’t see because he was wearing his suit.

Negasonic raised an eyebrow. “Fuck, you’re old,” she said with laugh.

“Ha! Fake laugh, hiding real pain. Go get silver balls,” Wade said.

Negasonic crossed her arms. “You guys going for a bite? Early bird special?”

“Oh, like there's something wrong with eating before sundown or saving money. No, you know that bad guy that you let go? He's got my girls. You're gonna help me get them back.”

He felt, and heard, Colossus come stomping – likely his normal walking – towards them. “Wade, is that you?” he asked.

Wade sighed. He liked it when people called him by his name, but only on his terms. Amy would be the only exception to that rule, she had told him very firmly that she would always call him Wade, no matter what, and then she had asked whether or not that was okay with him. Colossus was _not_ an exception.

“It's me, Deadpool, and I got an offer that you can't refuse!” Wade called over to the man, as he wasn’t insight. “I'm gonna wait out here, okay? Big house. It's funny that we only ever see two of you. It's almost like the studio couldn't afford another x-man.”

Negasonic frowned at him and then shook her head, turning away and closing the door with a muttered, “You’re so weird.”

* * *

Wade ended up calling a taxi and was pleasantly surprised when the driver turned out to be Dopinder, the man who drove him before. Wade sat in the passenger seat and Colossus and Negasonic sat in the back.

Wade checked his phone and frowned. The men hadn’t responded in over an hour and he had a bad feeling that that meant they were dead. By Francis, the fucker.

Shaking his head, Wade launched into his theory about the movie cocoon, finishing triumphally, “And that is why, in my opinion, the movie cocoon is pure pornography.”

Dopinder blinked. He seemed to have no response to what Wade had said, which most didn’t. Finally, it seemed he decided to just change the subject. “Who brought this twinkly man?” He asked, referencing Colossus, who was sipping loudly on a drink.

“Twinkly, but deadly,” Wade corrected. “My chrome-penised friend back there has agreed to do me this solid. In exchange, I told him I would consider joining his boy band.”

“It's not boy band,” Colossus corrected.

Wade waved his hand in Colossus’ general direction. “Sure it's not. Ah! So, any luck winning Gita back?”

Dopinder sighed and shook his head. “I tried to Mr. Pool, but Bantu is more craftier and handsomer than me,” he admitted.

“Well, I think you're pretty darn cute,” Wade said with a smile – once again they couldn’t see it but it’s the thought that counts, right?

The cab went over a pothole roughly with a bump. The cab went over a pothole oddly loud as well, because a sharp scream was heard from the trunk, making everyone, even Wade, but especially Colossus, tense and look over at the suddenly very intently driving Dopinder.

“Dopinder,” Wade said.

“Hmm?” Dopinder responded, sounding very, very nervous.

“What was that?” Wade asked.

Dopinder sighed. “Uh, that was, uh...Bantu, in the trunk.”

“Ban-who?” Colossus asked worriedly from the back of the cab. Even Negasonic looked up with _slight_ interest from her phone.

“My romantic rival, Bantu. He's tied up in the trunk. I'm doing like you said, DP. I'm going to gut him like a tenduri fish, then put his carcass on Gita's doorstep,” Dopinder explained with a proud look to Wade.

Wade had no idea what to say. He was honestly very touched though. Someone had found his advice useful, had thought that he was wise enough to be listened to. Was this what elders in tribe felt like?

Still, he could feel Colossus’ eyes on him, and he knew that he _had_ to at least appear to say something superhero-ey. “I did not tell him to do that! Absolutely not! It got lost in translation! Dopinder, this is no way to win Gita's heart back!” Dopinder looked over at him in shock, just in time for Wade to hiss, “I’m so proud of you.”

Dopinder blinked and looked between the road and Wade in confusions. “Drop Bantu off, safe and gentle like,” he ordered. “Kill him,” he instructed, as an elder should. “And then win Gita back! The old fashioned way, with your boyish charm,” he finished. “Kidnap her,” he hissed.

From the back of the cab, Negasonic shook her head. “He’s super dead,” she stated.

They suddenly pulled to a stop. “Oh!” Dopinder cried out, sounding just as shocked they had arrived as his passengers. He turned to Wade and then sighed. “I presume a crisp high five?”

“For you? Ten!” Wade cheered, holding up both hands. For some reason, Dopinder seemed less than enthusiastic to give Wade the high fives.

But that was okay, because Wade had enough enthusiasm for all of them. He turned to Negasonic and Colossus and clapped his hands together. “Okay, the team I sent ahead is likely dead, so let’s go out there, avenge their lives, and make a difference!” He turned to Dopinder one last time and hissed, “You know what to do.”

The two gave each other thumbs up, and then Wade closed the door and watched as he drove away.

He turned towards where he knew Francis, Amy, and Vanessa were. “Time to make the chimi fucking changas. Not often a dude ruins your face, wall stomps your sanity, grabs your future baby-momma and your old future baby-momma, and personally sees to four of your five shittiest moments. Let's just say, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.”

The trio started to approach the large platform, looking awesome as fuck. He knew that _‘X Gon’ Give It to Ya’_ was playing as they walked – as it should, that was a boss ass song.

And then Negasonic had to go and ruin it for him by asking, “Hey, where’s your duffel bag?”

Wade turned around, and then cursed. Grabbing his phone, he called Dopinder. After multiple rings, the voice mail came over, cheerfully saying, “Leave a message, and have a happy day!”

Groaning, he hung up his phone and put it away. “God damn it!” He cursed. “I'm gonna do this the old fashioned way. With two swords and maximum effort. Cue the music.”

The started to walk once more, Wade wincing as they passed by bodies, familiar bodies. There went his head team. As they got closer, a bunch of men with guns came out on the ground. On the top of the platform, Francis came out as well. “Wade Wilson! What's my name?”

Wade looked up at him, and smirked. “Ooh, I'mma fucking spell it out for you.”

Smirking back at him, as if he could see through the mask, Francis ordered to Angel, who appeared next to him, “Go get some.”

Wade started to back up, tapping Negasonic and Colossus on the arms with excitement. “Superhero landing, she’s gonna do a superhero landing, wait for it!”

Just like he predicted, Angel did a superhero landing, jumping off the platform and landing surprisingly well.

Wade started to clap. “Woo! Superhero landing. You know, that's really hard on your knees. Totally impractical. They all do it. You're a lovely lady, but I'm saving myself for Francis. That's why I brought him.”

Rolling her eyes, Angel headed straight for Colossus, pegging him as the man who would cause her the most problems. Of course, Colossus was not for this plan, and held up his hands while taking several steps back. “I'd prefer not to hit a woman, so please, pla –“

His voice cut off as he was sent forcibly back by a punch from Angel, sprawling several feet on the ground.

Wade blinked and motioned to Negasonic. “I mean...That's why I brought her?” He turned to look at Negasonic, who was, of fucking course, on her phone. “Oh, no, finish your tweet. Just give us a second. There you go, hashtag it. Go get her tiger.”

He watched as Negasonic threw her phone over her shoulder and then ran forwards. She turned, before his eyes, into a fiery ball, throwing Angel back.

Wade whistled. “Oh, I so pity the dude who pressures her into prom sex.”

Getting slowly to feet, Angel did _not_ look happy. Turning to the men she had come with, she yelled to them, “Alright then. Fire!”

The men started to shoot at them, forcing Negasonic and Wade to scramble behind cover. Colossus, being metal and all, did not have to worry about something as silly as _cover._ He just got to his feet as if the bullets hitting him was rain. He even was able to attack some of the men by grabbing a giant tire from one of the trash piles and throwing it at the men, hitting some and sending them flying to the ground.

Wade glared at Colossus as he walked past. “Finish fucking her the fuck up!” he ordered.

“Language, please!” Colossus reprimanded.

“Suck a cock!” Wade yelled back.

Still, Colossus and Angel started to fight, leaving one of the baddies entertained, but that still left the men shooting at them…and shooting at them. Fuck, he had to do something about those men, but he had to get their attention off Negasonic first.

Thanking every god he could think of for Amy having the foresight to add a fly to his suit – and action he had done many times before – Wade zipped it down and started to, painfully might he add, pull his underwear off. He saw Negasonic looking over with curiosity and rapidly shook his head. “Look away, child. Look away!”

Finally getting the underwear free, he grabbed a rusted, discarded pipe and lifted it up and waved it, using it as a mock flag of surrender. The men stopped shooting, likely due to confusion, which gave Wade enough time to pop up and shout, “Wait! Wait!” He smiled as no one shot a bullet towards him. “Hey, you only work for that shit spackled muffin fart! So, I'mma give y'all a chance to lay down your firearms, in exchange for preferential, borderline gentle, possibly lover-like treatment.”

The men started shooting again, making Wade shake his head at their no good, terrible decision. “Fine! Commando.”

He popped over his makeshift shield and started to fight off the men. He could hear Colossus and Angel fighting – the man was not quiet about it at all – and he could vaguely hear Negasonic blasting a few people away with her considerable skill set of fire.

They went on like this, killing and killing and fighting one person – Colossus was that annoying person in a group project, it seemed – until Wade stopped short of killing his next and last target. He blinked, recognizing the man. “Bob?”

“Wade?” the man asked, sounding just as incredulous as Wade felt.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you since –“

“Jacksonville, TGI Friday’s.”

“TGI Friday’s.” Shaking his head, Wade sheathed his swords. “What the hell! Come here you.” Beckoning as if to give Bob a hug, he headbutted the man, knocking him out. The man fell limp into his waiting arms, allowing Wade to continue his conversation and to start working on his project. “How are the kids? Good? And Gale, she still fixing that tuna casserole? So good. Bad for the waistline if you know what I mean.”

* * *

It took him time, time he probably shouldn’t have spent. But it was all worth it when, after he had arranged all the fallen men, and Bob, into ‘Francis.’ He yoo-hooed for Francis, making him come forwards with a slumped and dejected Amy – two words he never wanted to use to describe her again – and a very angry Vanessa, who, judging by the glare she was giving him, had been caught up to speed about what he had been doing lately. They were joined by several men, decked out in the same uniform as the men below, pointing guns down.

He frowned as he saw Francis saw something to Amy and Vanessa that made the latter switch her glare to the asshat.

“Don't worry, I'm coming,” Wade vowed, his eyes first going to Amy and then switching to Vanessa.

Evidently, Francis gave an order to fire, because Wade was very suddenly ducking out of range of the bullets, looking around for a cover. He paused and then grinned when he heard Negasonic call over to him, “Hey! Climb on.”

Nodding, Wade climbed onto a rusted piece of metal and waited as Negasonic powered up behind it. Suddenly, he was blown into the air, landing heavily and rather painfully onto the platform. It took him a minute to gather himself, and then it took him a minute longer to get to his feet, acutely aware of several bones repairing rapidly.

He started to walk down the platform, growing angrier and angrier until he was able to see Francis – but the sight of that British ass upset him even more, because he wasn’t alone. Next to him, in a horrible familiar machine that Wade still had nightmares about, was Vanessa. He could tell she was more than a bit scared by the way she was struggling against the bonds strapping her down, and she also seemed very, very angry judging by the words she was screaming.

He frowned, seeing Amy a couple of feet away, zip-tied to a pole. She tried to give him a smile, but its effect was ruined by the tears running down her face and the large, red, hand-shaped mark on her face.

“Motherfucker should have worn his brown pants,” Wade growled, mainly to himself as he took in Francis, who had an amused smirk. “You’re right Vanessa,” he called over to her. “Red really is my color.”

He watched as Vanessa gave him an exasperated look. Clearly, she had been caught up to speed. He heard her say, with less enthusiasm then he had imagined, “Wade, get me out of here!”

Wade nodded. “Don’t worry,” he reassured. “I’m gonna get you out of that shitbox.”

Francis just continued to smirk inanely. “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said in a mocking voice. “After all, Amy is safe and sound. I figured you wouldn’t care about _Vanessa._ When was the last time you spoke with her again?” The sneer was evident in his tone. “Still, what better way to get inside that head of yours?”

“Oh, you never left,” Wade vowed, somehow making those four words sound extremely threatening.

As if she couldn’t help herself, Vanessa called over to him “But you did, asshole!” The reminder of his failings made Wade wince.

Francis, however, just laughed. “Ah, take a deep breath darling. Oh wait, wrong choice of words.” He turned the machine on, causing Vanessa to star to gasp desperately for breath. Still on the pole nearby, Amy started to yell over at Francis, struggling against the zip-ties.

Wade took his swords out, glaring fiercely at Francis, who stepped away from the machine. “I hope they've blocked pain to your every last nerve, cause I'mma go looking!”

“You grow back body parts now, Wade? When I'm finished, parts'll have to grow back you,” Francis replied.

Wade couldn’t help but chuckle. “Good one. Yeah, that was a good one,” he admitted, before he got his game face back on – a removal no one had seen in the first place because of the mask. “Let's dance. And by dance, I mean let's try to kill each other.”

The two men began to fight, Wade using his two swords a ferocious manner that was matched fairly evenly by Francis. Despite the likely hood of him loosing the fight, Wade ended up sacrificing one of his two swords to throw over and into the oxygen machine, causing it to stop and for Vanessa, once she had recovered her breath, to work towards free herself.

But soon, Francis and Wade were lacking their weapons. Francis wiped away a dribble of blood coming out of his mouth and then spat the rest onto the ground. “Fine, fists.”

“Sounds like your last Saturday night,” Wade taunted.

The two men went at again, and, as Wade had expected, Francis played dirty. He tried to avoid allowing Francis to punch him in a good spot to knife, but alas, he failed – mainly because Francis decided to stop trying to hide his blade and instead directly stabbed Wade in the head. As Wade went down, he watched, not fully understanding, as Francis was stabbed by two women – a dark-haired one and a red-haired one. Francis kept the sword in as he turned and threw both of them to the ground.

Wade watched, seeing little, cartoon creatures appearing around the red-haired one. Hearts and a cupid and the vague sound of an 80’s song... _Angel of the Morning,_ which made sense because…because…the red-head was an angel, an angel calling his name frantically, telling him to remove something, but what?

Oh yeah, the knife.

Wade pulled the knife out of his head and heard a zipping noise as the music stopped playing and the cartoons disappeared. That was likely a good sign. He started towards Francis, fully planning on destroying him, when something creaked.

He paused, Francis paused, Amy and Vanessa paused. The creak happened again, this time accompanied by a large and loud groan. The platform they were on suddenly titled furiously forwards, throwing the entire group off balance. A crate appeared, sliding off as well, and collided with Francis, sending the British man off the platform.

Wade ran over to Amy and Vanessa and grabbed both of them.

“Wade!” Vanessa gasped. She had been fruitlessly holding onto Amy before, and was more than surprised to find a person in between them.

“I’ve got you two. I got a plan, but you both aren’t gonna like it.”

He grabbed onto the oxygen machine and pulled both Vanessa and Amy inside of it. Thankfully, it was wide enough, and Amy was short enough that the fit was snug – but it worked.

The platform tilted further, causing Wade and the lower part of the machine to dangle off the edge of it. “Don't worry, I'm totally on top of this,” Wade reassured. But this did not comfort either of the women, especially when the platform started to fall faster…and faster. Wade looked behind him, and then back at the machine, where both Vanessa and Amy were staring at him frantically.

“Damn it!” He cursed. “Maximum effort!”

Taking a deep breath, he put everything in his throw, flinging the machine off the platform and as far away as possible. He could vaguely hear two female voices screaming his name as the platform fell swiftly on top of him, but soon the voices disappeared.

And Wade Wilson, the man who couldn’t die, allowed himself to pass out.

 


	11. Chapter 11

It seemed to have been nearly twenty minutes before Amy and Vanessa were found. Amy didn’t have the energy to smile or frown, just accept Colossus’ hand as he helped her from the machine. The girl with him, someone that Amy did not recognize, gave her a steadying hand as Vanessa was helped from the machine.

“Just take it slow,” Colossus recommended.

Amy turned slowly, looking around to try and find Wade. She knew from what he had told her he wouldn’t die, but that didn’t mean he was lying under a piece of rubble, trapped, as his bones were regrowing. She winced at the idea of it.

But then she saw him climb up onto a pile of rubble. She gave him a smile, though she knew it was weak. He seemed to smile back, but it was hard to tell with Wade’s mask.

Still, he seemed enthusiastic as he called over to the group, “Yoo-hoo! Oh, my God, that was so awe –“

He was cut off suddenly as Francis, still very much alive, jumped up and tackled him off the pile. However, despite the surprising start to it, Wade quickly and easily got the upper-hand in the fight, breaking bones loud enough that Amy winced several times at the noise. She knew that Francis claimed he couldn’t feel any pain…but that _had_ to hurt, right? It hurt her to hear.

The fight seemed to move closer, as if the two men were rolling towards them. Amy frowned, glancing over at Vanessa when she realized that _she_ could hear Wade angrily yelling at Francis. “There are no words…me and you…are headed to fix this butterface.”

“What? You stupid fucking idiot. Did you really think there was a cure for that?” Francis snapped back, sounding as if his mouth was full of some sort of liquid – blood, Amy realized with a small shudder.

“What?” Wade snapped.

“You heard me.”

“No, no! So you mean to say, after all this, you can’t fix me,” Wade cried out, sounding so defeated…so angry. It hurt Amy to hear him refer to himself like he _needed_ to be fixed, like there was something wrong with him.

“It sounds a bit stupider when you say it,” Francis goaded, the tone familiar to Amy from whenever they had fought as a couple.

Wade chuckled, but it was not filled with his usual mirth. “Like the kind of stupid who admits he can't do the one thing I'm keeping him alive for?” This was followed by the entire group hearing the sound of a gun cocking. “Any last words?” he asked Francis, confirming everyone’s suspicions of Wade’s future plans.

“What’s my name?” Francis asked – spat, really.

“Who fucking cares?” Wade spat back.

Colossus, who had been listening – and wincing – ran over to the fight. “Wade! Four or five moments,” he called.

“I’m sorry?” Wade asked, the question summing up what Amy, and likely Vanessa, were wondering. The girl just shook her head, an annoyed look on her face that just shouted that she had heard this all before.

“Four or five moments. That's all it takes,” Colossus repeated.

“To...?” Wade prompted.

“Be a hero. Everyone thinks it's a full-time job. Wake up a hero, brush your teeth a hero, go to work a hero. Not true! Over a lifetime, there are only four or five moments that really matter. Moments when you're offered a choice. To make a sacrifice, conquer a flaw, save a friend. Spare an enemy. In these moments, everything else falls away. The way the world sees us, the way we –“ Colossus speech was cut off by the sound of a gun shot. He loudly puked.

“Why?” Colossus asked.

Wade got off, allowing Amy to barely see him over the pile of rubble that had been blocking the view of the fight. “You were droning on! Sure, I may be stuck looking like pepperoni flatbread, but at least fuckface won't heal from that. If wearing superhero tights means sparing psychopaths, then maybe I wasn't meant to wear 'em. Not everyone monitors a hall like you.”

“Just promise – “ Colossus started.

He was quickly cut off by Wade saying in a very dismissive voice, “Yeah, yeah, I'll be on the lookout for the next four moments.” Colossus seemed to accept that that was the best he was going to get, because he did not respond. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just a boy about to stand in front of a girl. And tell her...What the fuck am I going to tell her?”

Giving Amy a wane smile, Vanessa decided that _now_ was probably the right time for her to go over to Wade. In fact, she stormed over to the man. Amy heard Colossus chuckle, “Well, heh, you better figure it out.”

There was a pause and then Wade said, likely to Vanessa, “I can't even tell you –“ There was a sound of someone punching someone, Vanessa must have punched Wade judging by the way his head went back. “I deserve that,” Wade admitted. There was another punch from Vanessa. “That too.” There was a pause and then Wade quickly said in a higher – pitched voice than normal, “No, no, no, no, maybe not the nethers.”

“I’d tell you to start talking, but Amy already caught me up,” Vanessa snapped.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything. I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for not cowboying up sooner. It's been a rough couple of years,” Wade apologized, his voice sincere.

“Rough?” Vanessa asked. “Rough was realizing that the man who _said_ he loved you was better off with someone else.”

Amy felt her cheeks heat up, knowing that Vanessa was referring about her. “Better off?” Wade echoed. “Who am I better off with?”

Amy figured that it was probably a good time to walk over to Wade and Vanessa. So she started walking until she was able to see the two speaking to one another.

“We both know who you’re better off with,” Vanessa said in a soft voice. She turned and gave Amy a smile. “I think we both knew she was better for you when we got together.” She turned back to Wade. “We were never going to last,” she pointed out, making Wade nod. “Plus I started going to school. I’m going to get my degree soon and…I don’t have time for a relationship.”

She turned once more to Amy, beckoning her over, making the red-head walk over until she was next to Vanessa. She felt the woman leave her side after giving her a soft pat on her shoulder, but she didn’t watch her go, choosing to instead look up at Wade. “Hi,” she greeted in a soft voice.

Wade took off his mask and then took off a picture of Hugh Jackman’s face. “Are you sure?” He asked, not moving forwards or backwards but just standing there, showing her his face.

In answer, Amy did something she had wanted to do ever since she met Wade Wilson. She stood up onto her tiptoes and kissed Wade gently. She made to move back as soon as they had contact, but she was stopped by Wade wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. She couldn’t help but start to smile as she returned the gesture by wrapping her arms around his neck.

They did, eventually, pull away from each other. Amy was blushing furiously, acutely aware of Colossus and Vanessa and the girl standing off to the side. “Wow,” Amy said, not knowing what to say.

“Fucking wow,” Wade agreed.

“Come on Wade, language. Young one is present,” Colossus chided.

Wade turned, frowning, to look at the man. “What are...What are you still doing here? Get out of here, go make yourself useful! You, go be a really big brother to someone. Tell Beast to stop shitting on my lawn.” He turned to the girl and gave her a slight smile. “And you, chicken noodle, nothing compares to you. Sinead O'Connor, 1990.”

The girl gave Wade a small, small smile. “That's alright. You're cool.”

“What in the ass! That was not mean! I'm proud of you,” Wade replied, clapping.

Amy just turned to Vanessa. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Vanessa nodded. “It will be hard to get use to, and I might be distant for a bit,” she warned. “But I truly am happy for the both of you.” She frowned as she saw Colossus and the girl start to leave, Wade finished talking to them. “I’ll go with them.”

Amy quickly said her farewells as Vanessa scurried off to ask Colossus to drop her off at her apartment, a request that the metal man reacted positively to.

That just left Amy and Wade. She looked over to see him smirking at her, which turned out to be her only warning as Wade wrapped his arms around Amy and pulled her close so that he could kiss her quite soundly.

* * *

_“See? You don't need to be a superhero to get the girl. The right girl will bring out the hero in you. Who doesn't love a happy ending? Till next time, this is your friendly neighborhood pool guy, saying, I'm never gonna dance again, the way I dance with you...”_

 


	12. Chapter 12

Wade wandered out into a very nice hallway, more than a bit confused on how he got there. Amy was planning on stopping by his apartment later, and he had decided to take a shower. But when he was done and had pulled his suit on with a white fuzzy robe on, he frowned at the different surroundings.

And then he noticed the viewers, the faithful readers who had stuck by him _still there._ He frowned at them instead. “You're still here? It's over, go home. Oh, you're expecting a teaser for Deadpool 2. Well, we don't have that kind of money. What, are you expecting Sam Jackson to show up, with an eye patch and a saucy little leather number? Go home! Oh! But I can tell you one thing, and it's a bit of a secret: We're gonna have Cable. Amazing character, mechanic arm, time travel. We have no idea who we're gonna cast yet, but it could be anybody. Just need a big guy with a flat top. Mel Gibson, Dolph Lundgren, Keira Knightley. She's got range, who knows. Big secret. Shh. Oh, and don't leave your garbage lying around. It's a total dick move. Chicka-chicka.”

Amy poked her head out from a room in the hallway, frowning. “Has this always been here?” she asked Wade.

He just laughed and shook his head. “It’s a joke,” he explained.

“For who?” Amy asked.

Wade just gave her a smile, a smile she could barely make out under his mask. “I’ll try and explain it later.”

Still clearly confused, Amy seemed to accept Wade’s answer. She went back into the room she had popped out of, leaving Wade to turn to the viewers, those awesome readers, and give them a wink and a smile.

“Chicka-chicka,” he repeated.


End file.
